


The Stars are in his Eyes// Starlight Brigade

by Bumblesaur



Category: Starlight Brigade - TWRP ft. Dan Avidan (Music Video), TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, COMPLETE!, Coming of Age, Create a Story, Dimension Travel, Enjoy!, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Feel-good, Français | French, Friendship, Fun, Gen, Heartbreak, Heavily TWRP centred, Homage, Humor, Let's have some fun!, Music, Mystery, NSP, Novel Length, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Song references, Space Battles, Starlight Brigade - Freeform, Stars, Storytime, TWRP, bros being bros, includes illustrations, long story, lots of star talk, references, rewriting fate, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 217,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24139636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumblesaur/pseuds/Bumblesaur
Summary: Ever since the Void stole the stars, Moebius has fallen into despair. The lands are no longer fertile, light is harder to come by, and conditions worsen each day. The Moebians are falling ill, their cores becoming dim as their days in darkness drag on, threatening to pull their race into extinction.Strive keeps his head held high, gazing at the darkness with hope in his core. He patiently waits for the stars' return, awaiting his chance to finally see them after so many years. While his grandfather had long given up, he never did, his core shining bright whenever he envisions the missing starlight above.A mysterious shard falls from the sky, crashing into the desolate planet. Determined to end their eternal night, Strive sets off on an adventure unlike anything he could have ever dreamed. Naïve to the outside world, he must quickly adjust to the chaos of the open galaxy. With the help of his new—rather odd—friends, Strive must learn what it means to fight for what you believe in, even when doubt runs rampant and the odds are severely stacked against you. Together with the Starlight Brigade, Strive will prove he's more than just a dreamer; he's the one with starlight in his eyes.
Comments: 317
Kudos: 96





	1. Prolouge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ► (Si vous êtes à l'aise avec le **Français (French)** , lit cette version au lieu du cela! C'est incroyable!)  
>  **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/62225809) ** (Currently at Chapter 18)
> 
> ► Also available in **Russian (русский)**!  
>  **[The Stars are in his Eyes (Звезды в его глазах) ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9894631)** (Currently at Chapter 6)
> 
> (2020/07/31) I am so excited to bring your attention towards a French translation of this story! All credit for the translation goes to the wonderful **[ Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam)** They've been incredibly kind to take on the task of translating this story during their free time. As far as I know, this is the first French TWRP/Starlight Brigade piece on Ao3—perhaps even the first non-English translation of the fandom! Pretty exciting stuff! If you'd prefer reading in French, I've left the link above.  
>   
> In addition to this, they've also drawn _incredible illustrations_ for the story! With their permission, I've included their images at the start of each chapter as they come out (included on the French version as well). I give my warmest thanks to you, Nexeliam! Merci beaucoup! :^)
> 
> (2020/09/22) Thank you to **[ LunaMiko](https://ficbook.net/authors/1269936)** for offering a Russian translation! I am honoured to see a translation becoming available! :^)
> 
>  **Cover art by Nexeliam ([ Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam) links)**  
>   
>   
> 

The skies swallowed the silent land below, its overwhelming vastness stretching along the terrain like a flowing, celestial blanket. Stars beamed vibrantly in the abyss, shimmering lightly in a symphony of twilight laughter. Trails of stardust dashed across the cosmic wonder, gripping one another to create dramatic scenes of deep purple, navy pools and dominant swirls of gallant rose. The planet hummed with enchantment, the foliage soaking up the heavens and responding with their own soft, ethereal glow. Casting their gaze upwards, the glowing flowers spread their turquoise petals open and gently released drops of moondew, the pale liquid slowly lulling towards the ground. As it seeped into the malleable soil, the strange liquid gradually lost its phosphorescent luster, hiding itself within the cracks of earth.

A gentle gust of wind disrupted the blissful serenity, followed by the appearance of a small figure as he tumbled through the pentawrens, his excited stride purposely brushing against the flowers and sending fresh moondew across the grassy fields. The figure laughed joyously as the moondew hovered across the field, their luminosity creating curtains of pseudo-starlight for him to run through.

"Grandfather, look! I've made it to the stars! See? I'm running through them now!" The boy continued his dash through the pentawrens, skimming his sky-blue palms across the petals. The moondew clung to his fingertips before sloshing off with a flick of his wrist, sending shimmers of liquid starlight into the air; droplets of the luminous substance clung to his downy hair, forming a small galaxy among the light cyan wisps.

As the boy continued his romp through the flowers, an elderly man made his way to the edge of the patch, smiling lovingly at his grandson. He chuckled softly, tugging his whiskery beard in amusement as he watched the little tyke run through the fields, his arms outstretched as if he were flying. With a wry grin, the Elder decided to aid his grandson's imagination.

With a swift motion of his hand, he brought his leather headgear tight against his head, pulling his goggles over his eyes with perfect precision from his youth. He charged into the field, extending his arms out as he attempted to secure his grandson. The little boy looked over his shoulder with a small yelp, his long blue ears twitching in surprise at the sudden force lifting him from the ground.

His shock was quickly replaced with an ecstatic squeak, his mouth agape as he hollered loudly for all the plants to hear. His grandfather hoisted him onto his sturdy shoulders, holding his little boots with a firm grip while he weaved through the field, causing the boy's burgundy cloak to flow freely through the air. The child giggled gleefully, struggling to hold onto his grandfather through sputters and gasps of excitement. Smiling broadly, the boy extended his hand upwards, commencing a grabbing motion for his favourite star. Now that he was higher, surely that meant he was one step closer to feeling the stars in his grasp.

"Grandfather, can you lift me any higher? I'm so close to catching my star!" To further his point, the young boy stretched his small arm further, grunting from the effort he was putting in.

The Elder could feel his grandson straining on his shoulders, small trembles radiating from his body. The old man sniffed in amusement, looking up at the same star his grandchild was trying to reach. "I'm afraid not. This is as high as I can go."

His grandson huffed, refusing to accept this realistic statement. "But grandfather, you're not trying hard enough! How will you know unless you try?" The boy strained himself further, grunting audibly once he reached his physical limit. "I'm one step closer than I was a minute ago! That's something, right?"

"Hmm," the Elder pondered out loud, taking a moment to consider his grandson's naïve determination. "Well, it is true that you are further with my help. But what else can I do? I'm simply not tall enough."

"Stretch!" exclaimed the boy. "If we keep stretching, then eventually we'll be able to do it! I keep stretching everyday and I know I've gotten bigger because of it! Mama says so too!" The boy's voice was noticeably tight now, his body trembling from all the effort he was putting into his useless action. "She says that everyday I've grown. So that means one day I'll be big enough to hold the stars in my hands!"

The Elder shook his head, hiding the growing grin that was spreading across his weathered features. His grandson was the epitome of innocence; his youthful hope was something the Elder envied of him. If it were that simple, he would have touched the stars long ago. He remembered being the same age as his grandson, body shaking from exhaustion after countless nights of stretching towards the abyss. Just like his grandson, he would conduct countless attempts to touch the stars, each failure feeling like it sent him closer to the ground. He nearly gave up, dejection getting the better of him as his hope slowly died off into his youth.

It wasn't until his early adult life that his passions had been reignited, a long lost fire kindling to life.

The Elder touched his goggles fondly when he remembered his youth from long ago. The days he had spent gathering materials, conducting different research and analyzing hypothetical aircrafts had given his life new purpose. With the help of his dear friends, they had begun their first steps towards airborne travel. Well, technically it wouldn't be the first time they' dabbled with air travel—it was the mechanical aspect that was new. Their people had managed to domesticate an avian species eons ago, using these creatures for purposes such as long distance excursions and exploration.

These avian beasts were known as Ananiks; beautiful beasts from the skies. Their white bodies were rather plump, but their long, narrow wings were perfectly able to carry their weight—and much more too! The beasts would soar through the skies, the rhythmic beating of their four wings lulling inhabitants with their gentle gusts of air. Although these beasts possessed no legs, they were able to land with unbelievable grace, fluttering their wings softly before touching the ground, folding their smaller wings as a sort of pedestal to rest on. It was on ground level where one could admire their beauty from up close. The Elder believed the Ananiks secretly adored the admiration they received from his people.

Swivelling their long necks, the Ananiks would set their dark eyes on whomever was closest, their enchanting orbs acting as a mirror to reveal the rider-to-be's innermost desire. This was how mutual connections were established; Ananiks could always tell if someone's intentions were pure based on a second of eye contact. If the test was passed, the beast would cooperate with the desires of whoever wished to use it. The beasts were very important for his people, in way more ways than one.

Not only were they used for transportation, but these magnificent beasts also carried vital starlight upon their feathers. Each beat of their white wings would send clouds of stardust to the earth, providing their plants with vital growth through a shimmering display. Whenever one of the villagers happened out of town on an Ananiks' back, they would come back grinning, stardust shimmering on their dusty clothing.

Of course, the cloud-like beasts were essential for the Elder's people, yet the wrinkled man couldn't help himself from wanting more than simple air travel. Much like his grandson, he dreamed of something bigger. Farther than the atmosphere of their planet. He looked to the sky wistfully, feeling a pang in his old core.

It was true—he was unable to achieve his dream during his prime. Despite countless attempts, no one was able to create an aircraft capable of leaving the stratosphere. Perhaps they were a few years too early and required a future of better equipped technology. Perhaps it had already been done and they were simply left in the dust, stuck on the ground while the rest of the universe was free to travel among the glimmering lights of desire.

The Elder sighed loudly, brought from his sombre thoughts when his grandson began making a ruckus, shifting his body weight sporadically as he tried to get his grandfather's attention. "Yes, yes . . . what is it, Strive?" He looked up to see a small hand pointing towards the ground, his voice taut with worry.

"Grandfather, you squished some of the pentawrens! They're all shrivelled up now . . ." Strive's tiny voice sounded distressed, prompting the Elder to gently place him back on the ground. It would seem his grandson had momentarily forgotten about his passionate desire to dance through the starlight.

"Eh, is that so? My apologies, Strive. I guess I'm a little too big to be playing among the flowers." The Elder looked down at his grandson, feeling a slight prick of guilt when he saw just how many of the flowers he had trampled beneath his boots. Strive tenderly grasped the withered plant, their turquoise petals glowing dimly underneath the starlight. The young boy's bottom lip quivered, a pool of tears beginning to swell to the surface. He held the crumpled plant to his chest, weeping sadly at the unfortunate end to its life. As the child held the pentawren close, an azure glow radiated from his chest; his core was reacting to his own sadness.

The Elder frowned, looking down to his own chest. Residing below his chin, a glowing cyan gem protruded from his breast plate, his cloak fabricated to sit snugly around it. Upon seeing his grandson's sorrowful reaction to the crushed pentawrens, the Elder's own core reacted, glowing a little brighter from the onset of emotions he was feeling.

Strive let out a few sniffles, his hands wandering to the unscathed flowers as he felt each of their five petals with a delicate touch. He had always been this way; innocent, kind, and an overwhelmingly gentle soul. He could not stand pain— whether this be pain to himself or others. He would always try his best to be kind to everything, this included nature as well. Even as he was joyously sprinting through the fields, he would always remain conscious as to not disrupt the plants in the ground, simply swiping what little bits of starlight he could. It was interesting to observe, really. Such a playful, head-strong child, yet observant and careful when you least expect it.

And the way he looked towards the skies—his wonder was unbelievably contagious. His determination to reach what others had dismissed was admirable, though it often got him in trouble.

More than once, the Elder had found him missing from his room only to locate him on the highest point of the roof, gazing wistfully at the stars while he danced around, his tiny hands flexing towards the glowing orbs. His mother was just like him, deciding to join him on the roof and hoist him into her arms, asking him which star he wanted so she could give it to him. Strive would bubble over with giggles whenever she said this, pointing sporadically at one specific star, claiming that it would be his some day. Strive's mother would smile, bouncing him in her arms before whispering to her dozing son, affectionately commenting on how he already had starlight in his eyes.

Now, Strive's starlight was gone, replaced with pools of sorrow as he gathered more of the crumpled foliage in his arms. The Elder sighed once more, lowering himself to his grandson's level; he made sure not to sit on any of the pentawrens. He crouched above the glowing flowers, praying that he would be able to keep his balance for the time being. "I'm sorry for hurting the flowers, Strive. I didn't mean to. Your grandfather can be a little clumsy sometimes."

Strive wiped his eyes, his small hands brushing over the lighter half of his cyan face; the brighter patch mimicked the placement of his grandfather's goggles. He sniffed once, his eyes slowly dragging across the remaining pentawrens. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean to." He tilted his head to the sky, his eyes scanning the vast cosmic scene. "Do you think there are pentawrens in the sky as well?"

"Pentawrens? In the sky?"

"Yeah." Strive continued looking at the glimmering abyss, his dark eyes flicking from one dot to the next. "Sometimes when I run through the flowers, some of the petals will fly away in the wind. I never see where they go, but do you think they can travel to the stars? I mean, they glow just like they do!" As if to make his point, he ran his fingers through the crushed flowers, filtering all the detached petals from the stem. While they were slightly withered from the weight of the Elder's boot, they still held onto specks of glowing moondew, the dreamy hum highlighting its turquoise palette.

"I suppose we could see for ourselves." Feeling a smile return to his lips, the Elder gently picked up his grandson, setting him down on his shoulders once again. "You'll be able to see the petals longer when you're higher up. Come now, scatter them and let's see where they go!"

Strive grinned happily, his sadness forgotten once he found a renewed purpose for the flattened flowers. The boy inhaled sharply, trying to fit as much air in his lungs as he could. His core flicked lightly as he willed himself to gather more air than he could handle. After reaching his full potential, he let out a mighty gust of wind, sending the glowing petals soaring through the glittering sky. Both he and the Elder watched the petals coil through the air, swirling together in a mysterious turquoise waltz. A sudden, blustering wind whipped past them, sending the petals further into the sky. 

"Look!" shrieked Strive excitedly."They do go to the sky!"

The Elder let out a low chuckle, his grandson's innocent marvel at the simplest things warming his core. "I guess they do. You were certainly right, Strive." The boy giggled some more, idly swinging his legs on his grandfather's shoulders while he watched the twilight skies, the fluorescent petals dimly visible as their distance increased.

Strive began humming a little tune, losing himself in the mesmerizing scene above. His misty eyes fell on his favourite star, the impressive dot shimmering gleefully in response. His star was the centre of everything; speckles of smaller stars gathered around its form, coiled in the scarf of a milky starlight trail, its various hues of purple and pink dominating the surrounding blue. If he looked hard enough, he swore he could see splotches of green and yellow as well. This was one of the reasons his star caught so much attention. It was like looking at a cosmic rainbow, his eyes becoming saturated with every colour the galaxy would allow.

Strive continued to stare dreamily at his star, resting his head on his grandfather's hat when he began to grow tired. He willed himself to keep his eyes on his star, refusing to forget its stunning beauty. One of these days he was going to be up there, trailing his hands among the thousands of glistening dots. Some times it felt impossible, the distance between himself and the open space terribly daunting. Yet deep down, Strive knew he was going to make it. He didn't know how he was going to get there, but he would. He certainly could. He must.

As his eyes began to droop, Strive felt the sudden start of his grandfather, the elderly man quickly freezing beneath him. The boy squinted in confusion, wondering why his grandfather had gotten spooked. Looking upwards, the child's eyes widened when his star began moving to the side. Rather, it looked like it was being sucked away. He jolted upwards immediately, his feathered ears growing rigid in shock. Below him, he saw his grandfather raise his goggles back to his forehead, his eyes wide and unmoving.

"Wha—the stars. . . . They're—they're being pulled away!"

Strive looked around desperately, watching as the sky's colourful palette was drenched in a sickening black, the inky darkness spreading into the cosmos like an airborne sickness. One by one, the stars were pulled into the black void, disappearing into the frightful unknown. He felt a cry escape his chest when the remaining stars were pulled into the oncoming abyss, some dots momentarily staying in place while they fought against the unknown force. Slowly but surely the stars lost their battle, the last of the glistening warriors plunging into chaos.

Not only did the stars get pulled away, but the essence of the pentawrens as well. Strive watched with dismay as the turquoise flowers leaned towards the darkness, their luminous petals becoming shredded as the prismatic sky-beast tore at their limbs, clawing out every bit of moondew from them. A few of the flowers were uprooted, soaring through the skies on a bout of ominous wind. 

Strive's core ached painfully at the sight, desperately clawing at the sky as he tried to hold onto a simple bit of starlight. He felt his lower lip quiver before biting down, feeling tears of fear and confusion fall across his cheeks. He stared at the black prism, the towering beast holding onto the stars like a gluttonous giant, its darkness dimming the beauty of the cosmos. The boy let out a gut wrenching scream, his core ablaze with a tortured azure light, his mournful glow highlighting the flowered corpses surrounding them.

The Elder quickly snatched the child from his shoulders, shielding his grandson from the beast by holding him to his chest, shakily running in the direction of the village. The Elder's eyes were wide with fright. He tore through the forest path, his breathing coming out in strained huffs as he willed himself to run faster, all while keeping a grip on his thrashing grandson.

Strive had tears of anguish rolling down his cheeks, his tiny hands balled into fists while he wailed in despair, his core glowing frantically with each shuddering breath he took and tortured scream he let out. 

The Elder grimaced, feeling his own tears beginning to surface. _I mustn't cry! I can't!_ he thought to himself, his focus currently occupied with clutching the shrieking child. _I've got to get to the village! My daughter . . . oh, my daughter! I have to get to her!_

The Elder didn't have to run long before he was met with some familiar figures; the villagers. The Elder looked over his shoulder, shuddering at how empty the skies looked. Sweeping his gaze across the bleakness, he should be relieved that the prism was no longer there. Yet the sky's emptiness was so haunting that he briefly wished the beast had stayed. At least there would have been something to look at.

"Elder Alcadous! What's happening? Where are the stars!?" yelled the villagers.

Alcadous stopped in front of the distraught villagers, panting heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. He rocked Strive in his arms, the poor boy having screamed his voice raw. Alcadous felt tears swim to his eyes once he looked down at the shaking bundle in his arms, his grandson's core flickering dimly while he quietly wept. The older man collapsed to his knees. An available villager swiftly took the child in their arms while others went to aid the Elder, supporting the distraught man by his trembling arms. They tried to calm the young child, whispering soothing words to the inconsolable form. By this point, the boy had completely shut down, his eyes closed from of exhaustion in an attempt to escape this cursed night.

Catching his breath, Alcadous pointed down the path. "My daughter, where is Avida? I need to make sure she is safe!"

"E-Elder Alcadous! She's in the village. We saw her run into her home shortly before we came running for you!

Wasting no time, Alcadous freed himself from the other villager's grasps, practically dragging himself down the remainder of the path. Despite the concerned protests of the villagers, the Elder hobbled on. "She wouldn't. Not for something like this, she truly wouldn't! She couldn't!" Alcadous kept repeating these words as he stumbled to a familiar home near the edge of town, the exterior having been built from leftover metals and scrap materials from deserted projects. While the exterior was not the most pleasant to look at, the interior betrayed its roughness.

Alcadous tore through the door, nearly running into the one he was looking for. "Avida! You can't!"

"I must!" The woman nearly tore past Alcadous before being stopped by his outstretched arm, his limbs still shaking from holding onto Strive for an extended period of time. 

Avida's appearance was similar to that of Strive's, sporting the same shade of cyan blue across her fair skin, a lighter patch gently sweeping across her eyes like painted goggles. Her hair was longer than her son's, the beautiful wisps tied into a half-up bun with a few of her cloudy locks bouncing at her shoulders. Her eyes burned with unspoken intensity, her dark eyes housing the fires of a thousand meteor showers.

She glared at her father, hoisting up the head gear she had planned to put on before his arrival. "You saw what happened out there, didn't you? The blinking stars have disappeared! What do you make of that?!"

Alcadous looked at the headgear and felt a lump in his throat; he saw his old pair of aviator goggles. "Avida, I told you that I've never perfected the mechanical airship! I never even got past the stratosphere before threatening to burn up! We can't go any further than that!"

Avida sneered at her father, narrowing her eyes in defiance.

"You speak with fear!" she yelled. "What happened to the man who dreamed of the stars? The one who told me of all the possibilities once we reached the skies? You may have given up, but I never did! I'm going out there and figuring out what happened!" Avida shouldered past her father and walked out of the house with a hostile gait, signalling for the villagers to back away from her.

Terror-stricken, Alcadous watched his daughter leave. "You can't just leave! What about Strive?!"

The woman stopped in her tracks, twitching when the Elder mentioned her son. She looked around the crowd, narrowing her eyes while she searched the murmuring clearing. Her gaze sparked to life when she found the villager cradling her son, the small child having been soothed into a somewhat relaxed state. Avida's glare softened as she approached the sleeping boy, causing the villager to back away in alarm. She rolled her eyes at the cowardly gesture; she was intimidating, sure. But not that scary. 

She gazed lovingly at her son, tracing her eyes over his features so she wouldn't forget them anytime soon. "Don't worry," she cooed. "I'll be back soon. I'll bring your stars back to you."

Avida sighed loudly. She pulled her goggles over her eyes and slowly faced the crowd. She saw their looks of despair, fear and worst of all—hopelessness. She grimaced to herself, placing her hand over her core. The gem shimmered with determination.

She looked towards her father, not out of defiance, but with pleading eyes. "Father, I need to do this. Not only for us, but for him. My little Strive." She looked towards the sky, feeling hollowed when she took in the emptiness above. "If I can go beyond our planet, I have a shot at finding a solution. How can I stand by while the world dies? That's no way to live."

As Avida began to walk away, Alcadous shook his head, balling his fists as he yelled for his daughter to stay. "This is suicide! Did you hear what I said?! We don't know what's beyond the veil! We have never crossed before!"

The woman stopped, standing at the edge of the forest where her ship was being kept. She looked back at her father, a sad smile making its way across her features. "While you may not hold the stars in your eyes anymore, I still do. I'm not letting the Void take that away from me too." She fastened her goggles tighter to her head, quickly checking their stability. "If I stay here and do nothing, my Starlight might die as well." She cast a quick look to the sleeping bundle in the stranger's grasp, her gaze unintentionally lingering for longer than she planned.

She gave a shaky sigh, willing herself to keep her composure as she fought back devastating tears. She'd be back—she'd come back for her Starlight.

Alcadous watched his daughter disappear into the bushes, a panicked murmur rising among the villagers. The Elder quickly ran to his grandson's side, gently shifting the small boy into his arms. The elderly man stifled a pained gasp, his whole body shaking in time with his sobs. He listened helplessly to the foreign hum that filled the air, followed by a sharp gust of wind. The villagers watched in awe when a round, white aircraft began to ascend into the air, a familiar form encased within the glass cockpit. Alcadous gazed at the carrier with a mix of admiration and horror. It was amazing that she had been able to get the old prototype working, yet equally horrifying due to the promise it held for the open skies.

With an audible draft of wind, the ship soared through the sky, disappearing among the desolate abyss. Alcadous felt Strive shift within his grasp, the small child's eyes remaining closed. The boy let out a frightened whimper, his hands reaching out for nothing in particular. The Elder cradled his grandson, feeling a cold emptiness spread throughout his exhausted core. He held Strive tightly, refusing to let go of the one she left behind.

  
.  
  
.  
**(2020/12/19) Goodness me, such a creative interpretation of the Ananiks! You've drawn them so beautifully, Nex! It's absolutely marvelous—so elegant and regal!**


	2. Bring Back the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things haven't been easy since the stars disappeared, especially for young dreamer Strive. Having the only glowing core among your village is tough, especially when you're seen as a cruel reminder for what once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/08/7) Image by the wonderful [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/62569264#workskin) **

Strive made his way through the quiet paths of the village, his head held low as he politely excused himself past the inhabitants that filled the market's quarters. While there were many who gathered at the weekly shops, they kept their voices hushed, a mere murmur that left an undesirable staleness to the air. As he made his way towards one of the food stalls, he found himself stuck behind two idling figures.

A bashful blush rose to his cheeks when he raised his soft voice above the murmur. "Pardon me."

Though he was pleasant with his delivery, there was no mistaking the cold glares he felt once the villagers laid eyes on him. Without a word, they stepped apart and allowed the young Moebian to walk, eyes narrowed as they trailed them over his passing form.

Strive felt a nervous sweat break on the back of his neck. He placed a hand over his glowing core, an unconscious action he found himself doing quite often nowadays. He palmed the thick fabric of his makeshift cloak, feeling a sense of claustrophobia with the unnecessary covering of his vital gem. Heaving a heavy sigh, he reluctantly made his way towards the merchant of the food stall.

The merchant paid him no heed at first, instead keeping his lidded eyes fixed on nothing in particular. His feathered ears rested low due to the two silver rings that pierced his bottom lobes, their shine having lost their luster over the years. Or perhaps due to the overwhelming weight that hung in everyone's cores. Strive let his eyes wander towards the man's chest, taking note of the dim hue that pulsed weakly with every sigh. At the sight of this melancholic display, a pang of sadness washed over the boy.

"Excuse me, sir. What have you got for sale?"

The merchant raised his eyes to Strive, recognition slowly washing over his features once his murky gaze focused on the boy. "Hello, Strive. I regret to inform you that it's the same as always, kid. Pinsarps or tarrocs?"

"I see," Strive felt a little foolish for even asking. There hadn't been anything different for a couple of years now. "I'll take a couple pinsarps and a bundle of tarrocs, please." He handed the man his currency while the legumes were being brought forward, their bland exteriors another reminder of the hard times that had fallen on the village. The boy voiced his thanks and left, gaining a disinterested grunt in return. Like always, he made sure to walk a little faster on his way home. He could only take the mix of cold glares and smothering pity directed his way for so long.

The produce in his bag rustled audibly as he hurried his stride through the gloomy streets, trying his best to keep his head low and unassuming. More than once, he fought the urge to raise his head towards the sky, only to remind himself that he shouldn't. The stars had been missing for more than a decade, the once vibrant skies now a permanent black smudge of despair. A suffocating blanket that hung over the entire planet. The village had long given up hope of their return, their current focus revolving around the prospect of simply surviving the next day.

However, the boy was unable to subdue the hope that radiated from his core, much to the annoyance of the other villagers.

Raising his head to the blank sky, Strive felt his core light up furiously. He could feel an increase of speed as determination filled his body, propelling him forward through the hollowed streets; there was a familiar bound to his step as he rushed back to his home. 

Although the stars were missing, he could still recall all of their unique paths. The way they shimmered effortlessly, the streaks of colour that dominated the dark underlay, the way they sang for him to claim them in his grasp. Their absence had taken a toll on the world, but Strive was hopeful for their return. One day, he would find them again, even if it meant by his own hand

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he stopped in place and raised his gaze to the darkness above. He carefully placed the bag of food by his feet, bringing his unsteady hand to his chest. In a sudden fit of rage, he grimaced and tore away the cloak that concealed his body, revealing the vibrant glow that emanated from his core. The gem-like piece flared with a vivid brilliance, the haunting azure light lapping at the ashy earth surrounding him. In this sombre world, he found comfort in the light of his core, its luminosity offering him clarity in these dark times. For reasons of despair, each of the villagers has slowly snuffed out their own lights. Their cores became dim and flat, their radiance fading with the stolen stars. For reasons unknown, Strive was left unaffected, unweakened by the lack of starlight that proved vital for the rest. Because of this, he became a target of displeasure and bitter longing among the majority of his people.

His bright core served as a reminder for what had been lost. Starlight hadn't been seen for years, their presence torn away by the Void's harsh, black claws. What had remained was the naïve hope that it would come back, the Moebians having forced themselves to be optimistic within their crisis. But as the years went by, they began their slow, agonizing descent into the wretched failure of their cores; they began to Dim. The once brilliant shine of their vitals developed a flicker, the blue radiance becoming subdued like the world around them. No longer shining gems, but sickly grey stones protruding from their breast bone; they served no purpose other than a grim reminder of their eventual fates.

With the progressing years, the Moebians discovered their lives were depleting much quicker than usual, the lack of starlight not only affecting the fertility of their lands, but also their well-being. As their cores Dimmed, so did their vitality. The elderly began to fall ill, unable to leave the beds that eventually became their resting grounds. New mothers were faced with the difficult task of not only birthing their children, but staying strong enough to survive the deliveries in their weakened state. More often than not, the village mourned the death of expecting mothers, their newborns following suit not long after. In the unlikely event they survived, infants hardly made it past their first celebration of life, their cores too weak to carry them past infancy. If Dimmed cores weren't enough to weaken the population, staggering grief was sure to do it.

Staring at the bleak abyss, Strive felt his core swell painfully at the thought of his people, their slow demise a fate he could not prevent. Gripping the vibrant gem, he swallowed back the resentment he felt for his undeserved fortune. His core was strong, unwavering against the darkness that surrounded him. Unlike other Moebians, he would most likely live beyond their years—but at what cost? Was he doomed to watch his village suffer? Subjected to stares of wonderment, desire and hatred? Though his core was strong, his body was admittedly weak from lack of nutrition available on the planet. Would his core keep him alive long enough to prolong his suffering?

Was he fated to watch the entire population Fade?

Tears of frustration began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision while he continued to gaze into the empty cosmos. He choked back a bitter laugh at the sight before him, the irony most cruel indeed. The glow from his core became muddled, his watery eyes sending smudges of blue across the sky as it imitated the patterning of his lost stars. With a single blink, tears flowed down his light blue skin, ripping away the pseudo-starlight much quicker than he wanted.

Amidst his quiet sniffling, he was greeted by the soft steps of a lumbering figure, their sudden presence sending the boy's hackles high in shock. "Grandfather! You scared the stars out of me!"

Alcadous stood beside his grandson, his face withering when he took in his grandson's distress. "My apologies, Strive. I assumed you knew I was here. That's why you stopped by the house, yes? You've brought food from the market?"

"Ah, yes." The boy's ears began to heat up under his grandfather's watchful eye, feeling a little foolish for losing himself in his thoughts once again. "Pinsarps and tarrocs, just as you asked."

His grandfather gave a low hum, surveying the bag by his grandson's feet. "Yes, same as always. I don't expect any change. It's been quite a few years since we've had any variety here."

"Yes . . . I know, right." Strive quickly swiped his arm across his face, clearing away any pesky tears that had made an appearance moments ago. He knew it was pointless to cry about their situation; tears never did anything good for his people. He had seen enough to know that they only caused more distress and grief. But sometimes it was hard to keep himself composed when he thought about himself—how much of a cruel reminder he was of what they had lost.

Alcadous stood in silence while his grandson composed himself, his gaze narrowed in disapproval. He closed his eyes with a drawn out sigh, gripping his cane in unease. "Strive, your cloak. We've talked about this." As if to make his point, the elderly man pointed towards the discarded cloak by the boy's feet, pushing it towards him. "For the sake of others, you must cover up in public."

"I know, I know. I understand, but . . . grandfather, my core is—"

"Strive, you have been blessed with a strong core. You are the only one who hasn't Dimmed in wake of all that has happened. It is because of this that you must cover it up. I know you want to help those around you, but you may only bring pain when you remind them of our missing lives." With wobbly knees, Alcadous bent down to retrieve the cloak, gently placing it into Strive's free hand. "Come, let's bring the food inside. We've been out in the cold long enough."

Reluctantly, Strive watched the cloak shift further into his core, smothering the light that had danced across the surrounding area. Much like his core's light, it felt like his grandfather was trying to suffocate him as well.  


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Dinner had been the same as always at their small little table. The chalky taste of chopped pinsarps and the shockingly dense flavor of earthy tarrocs assaulted Strive's taste buds with their bland arsenal, the root vegetables possessing no other toppings besides the dirt that came with them. Though it had been a long time ago, he could somewhat remember the taste of proper food before the Void happened. The hearty spice of leiky sprouts, the puckering tang of nomel berries, the comforting sweetness of pentawren pie—all of these were a heavenly delight compared to the lacking husks that occupied their dinners. Despite their mundane meals, Alcadous made it his purpose to remind the boy of how fortunate they were to still have a food source in light of everything that had happened, especially since the Ananiks had long disappeared with the stars.

"We are fortunate, my grandson," he would begin at the end of every dinner, his speech practically etched into Strive's mind. It was like his elderly mantra or something. "Ever since the Ananiks disappeared with their star-clad wings, our crops were unable to grow. We relied so much on them that it was shocking when they stopped coming to our aid. If it weren't for our remaining farmers and their marvellous root vegetables, our people would have starved long ago."

Although Strive was a kind soul, he couldn't help himself from rolling his eyes at his grandfather's lousy speech, those 'marvellous' husks unable to satisfy the hunger he had for food that didn't reside in the crust of the planet. If anything, his speech would always serve as a reminder for what he was deeply missing from his past. "You say that, but I have a feeling pentawren pie would be a lot better than these dry roots we've been stuck eating for the past few years."

Alcadous grinned sadly, his eyes wrinkled by the years he had endured. Caught in the warmth of their past, the man couldn't help but drone on. "Hmm, you're right. Your mother always made the best pentawren pastries. Not to mention the moondew glazing she would add on special occasions."

Strive nodded his head slowly, trying to recall what his grandfather was referring to. He was quite young when his mother was still around and only held onto a select few memories of her. He could remember times spent on the rooftop of their house as they gazed at the stars, his mother holding him high as he grasped for his favourite speck in the sky. He could feel his core react to this memory, an ache of longing edging its way into his chest. She had always liked his eyes—she said that his were similar to the skies above. She said they held enough starlight to fill an entire galaxy, stretching beyond their small little world on Moebius. If only she could see him now; the starlight that nobody wanted to see.

"Mother and I were quite similar, weren't we?"

Alcadous lost himself for a second, taken aback by the sudden question. He mulled over the words for a moment before continuing with a low hum. "I suppose you are, yes. You both have such a passion about you. You're both—"

"She left to bring the stars back, didn't she?"

Alcadous' eyes narrowed, his hands coming together into tight fists of discomfort. "She's . . . Avida was foolish. She should have never taken off in that blasted machine. It was suicide from the very beginning. The stars were taken from us by a force greater than our own and we cannot do anything about it. For her to up and kill herself is—"

Strive felt rage boil beneath the surface as his grandfather continued talking, painting an unflattering picture of the maternal figure he scarcely remembered for himself. While many chose to believe she left with a death wish, he had always admired her determination in wake of uncertainty. Her drive. Her spirit. Her willingness to take back what was once theirs even if it meant harm to herself. He grew up hearing stories of her demise, yet he saw her as something more.

"She was not foolish! Why can't you see that?" Strive slammed his fist down onto the table in rage, his teeth clamped together as he fought back the urge to storm out. "She made an effort to find out what happened and all I hear is how much of a suicidal idiot she was! Aren't you even curious about what's out there? Don't you want to know what happened?!"

"Strive, lower your voice! You're making an unnecessary scene!" The elderly man eyed his grandson with displeasure, more so at the fact that he was witnessing the blinding glare of his core, the azure light vibrant enough to cause the man a slight headache.

"Lower my voice? Like how I have to hide my core from the rest of the villagers?" Strive growled in frustration. He placed his palm on his chest, his fingers curled into a resentful claw. "I'm tired of being told to stop questioning things. How I should lay down and die underneath these blank skies like everyone else. That's not who I am! That's not who I'll _ever_ be!" He could feel the annoying prick of tears threatening to spill over. "What about you? You used to tell me all these stories about the stars, the cosmos, and the wonders beyond! When did you decide to give up? Why do I have to give up just because you want me to?!"

"I gave up long ago because I saw how pointless it was being a dreamer! I was never able to get past the stratosphere in those forsaken machines and my foolishness led to the death of my daughter! How can I still be a dreamer when all my dreams were stolen from me the night my daughter sent herself to her death?! There's nothing to hope for anymore, Strive. We have nothing to dream about, so stop it and see how foolish you really are!"

The boy had enough. A terrible growl escaped his throat as he stormed out the door, his ears deaf to the protests of his grandfather. As awful as he felt for running away, he couldn't face his elder anytime soon. Countless emotions swarmed his core, sending the gem into a fitful display of flickering lights and heavy compressions. Feeling like screaming but not wanting to wake the residents of the village, he chose to vent his frustrations by running aimlessly through the village corridors, his frantic chest the perfect light source in these winding labyrinths. He didn't care which way he was going, all he wanted to do was get away from . . . everything.

A startled gasp escaped him when he dug his heels into the ground, narrowly avoiding the wall that blocked his path. Panting heavily, Strive looked around frantically in an attempt to regain his bearings in this unfamiliar setting. Everything was cloaked in darkness, more so than usual. Unlike the main village streets that held small, artificial light sources, this street seemed to lack any sort of lighting except for his core, the gem now vibrant from the fear he felt seeping into his body. By habit, he turned his head to the skies with the hope of gauging his position by the stars. Unfortunately for him, the stars were gone. They had been for quite some time.

Huffing with unsteady irritation, he decided to head for the opposite side of the alleyway. Once he reached the end of the path, he was met with three different directions, each one as dim as the latter. He gulped, trying to remember if he had taken a right or a left though his rage. This wasn't looking too good for him right now.

"Well, looky here, if it isn't the light parade himself."

Strive stopped in his tracks, angling his ears in the direction of the irritatingly familiar voice. He let out a low growl, covering his core in an attempt to hide himself. His actions proved redundant since he was practically a walking light source to begin with. "What do you want, Aster?"

A slim figure emerged from the left, hands in his pockets as he calmly sauntered over. "Nothing, just wondering why the Star Prince himself is walking around like he owns the place." Aster approached with a lopsided grin, his white hair long enough to reach his sharp shoulders. The boy wore a cloak of his own, the blue fabric outlining the pitifully dim core that rested at his centre. "Whatcha doin' out here with that eyesore? Trying to make us go blind?"

Strive gave a strained grin, forcing himself to bite his tongue when speaking to the hooligan. "Sorry, I was just passing through. Must have forgotten my cloak back home. If you'll excuse me—" He held his head high while he walked past the leering boy, only to be blocked by an outstretched arm. He felt unease bubble in his throat, a nervous sweat beginning to break across his back. "Look, I really need to head back. Grandfather is probably wondering where I've gone."

"Oh yeah, your gramps. The Elder of our village who's done nothing to help us." Aster snarled his words out, directing their lashing towards Strive. He refused to make eye contact while he spoke, his head turned to the side as he surveyed the alley. "My sister's core has Dimmed so much that she's taken ill. Can't even get out of bed because she's too weak to stand on her own. She's not even half your age . . ." His narrowed eyes trailed over Strive's core, his pupils dilating with red-hot hatred. "Yet here you are, core still bright like nothing's happened. Does it make you feel good to flaunt that thing around? Reminding us that we're all going to Fade way before you?"

"Aster, I'm sorry to hear about your sister. But my core . . . I'm not trying to. . . . That's not—"

"Shut it, kid!" Aster brought his fist to Strive's cheek, the collision causing him to fall onto his back with a strangled gasp. The impact with the ground momentarily sent him cross-eyed, his head spinning as a result. "We've all been struggling to stay alive, yet you're out here showing us the thing we can't have! Ever since our stars disappeared, we've been left to fend for ourselves, your gramps doing nothing to help us! What kind of leader just leaves his people to merely 'survive'? Why does he only focus on you? Why hasn't he brought our cores back like he did yours?!"

Still on the ground, Strive let out a pained cough. "My core has always been like this and I don't have the answers. But I will someday. I'm going to bring back the stars so everyone can live again!" His core burned a furious light, the underside of his face lighting up in a determined shadow. "I'm going to save our people! It's my promise!"

His statement was met with bitter laughter. Aster narrowed his eyes in resentment, bringing a foot down to collide with Strive's ribs. "You think you can bring back the stars? Really? How are you going to do it, huh? Build a ship and blow yourself up before you even leave the ground? Sounds like you want to end up just like your mother. But then again, who am I to stop you if you want to follow in her footsteps?" Aster raised one foot, reeling it back in preparation for another assault. "Stop while you're at it, kid. You'll end up dead before you could ever think of leaving the ground. But then again, maybe that's a good thing!"

Strive grimaced in anticipation for another kick, curling his body inwards as he tried to protect himself from the advancing blow. Shutting his eyes, he prepared for the worst. He briefly wondered what others would do in his situation, how they'd get up and fight back with the same force as their attacker. Despite knowing he could easily escape his assailant by retaliating, he refused to do so. For him, there was always another way besides violence. Harsh words, maybe. But he'd never think of raising a fist to anyone, even if they really did deserve it in the end.

Still bracing for impact, Strive felt confusion wash over him when the kick never came. His head was still pounding from adrenaline when he finally decided to open his eyes, surprised to find a different figure in front of him. His feathered ears perked in delight once he recognized the looming form above him.

"Etolous!"

The towering figure offered his hand to the injured boy, flashing him a small smile. "Strive, I didn't think you'd be the type to wander around this part of the village. Especially not with a core such as yours." Etolous gestured to Strive's core, causing the boy to light up in shame.

"I didn't mean to, honest. I got lost while running through the village. I . . . had a fight with grandfather before I ran off."

The man seemed unfazed by this statement. "Hmm, old Alcadous giving you trouble, eh? Don't think too much of it. Here, you can come back with me until you're ready to face him."

Strive's pointed ears twitched at the suggestion. Etolous wasn't blood related, but he was practically family in the boy's eyes. The best way to describe him was like that cool uncle everyone raves about. And if by cool you actually meant crazy; the good kind of crazy. Surely that was a thing, right? The boy certainly thought so as he hobbled to Etolous' side, mindlessly chattering about his plans to bring the stars back. Etolous smiled warmly, looking down at the boy with enough admiration to nearly set his grey core ablaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2021/01/10) _Maddy, I know you're looking. Love you with all my heart, bestie. I am a goof ♥_


	3. Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seeking solace in Etolous, Strive once again looks to the skies for an answer. But he never imagined his answer would come crashing down in the form of a blinding light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/08/13) Image by the wonderfully talented [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/62897086#workskin) **

After finding their way out of the village labyrinth, the two Moebians made their way back to the humbled dwelling of Etolous, a home that held a special place in Strive's glimmering core. With no need for formalities, the boy flung himself into the familiar household, breathing in the comforting scent of paper, thick inks, and the curious sharp tang of a metallic substance. The main room of the residence was littered with various blueprints—many of which were carelessly flung across every piece of furniture—and was accompanied by mysterious gadgets on the remaining visible surfaces. Glass bottles held dubious liquids, some of which bubbled at specific temperatures when tinkered with or changed colour depending on the mixture that was added into the formula. Strive never gave the bottles a second glance, knowing full well the repercussions of what happened last time he dared to tamper with the man's experiments; Etolous hadn't managed to fix the gaping hole in the ceiling quite yet. Despite the nagging guilt that still nipped at his heels, he had a feeling the older man didn't mind looking towards the skies during his voluntary isolation.

Once inside and settled, Etolous wandered off towards a less cluttered area of his home. "A beverage, Strive?"

Keeping his eyes trained on the blueprints around the house, the boy shook his head, offering a polite smile instead. Etolous gave a small grunt, his lumbering figure retreating into what could only be assumed to be a dining area. While waiting for his return, Strive turned his attention towards a particular blueprint across the engineer's work station. "Have you found anything new recently?"

"Nope, nothing yet." The older Moebian called from his station, the clamouring of cups clicking throughout the house. "Different formulas, same result every time. I swear, it's almost as if we were never meant to travel the stars in the first place."

"Hmm, I know you don't mean that in the slightest. You're just as crazy as I am to reach the skies, if not more." Strive trailed his eyes over the approaching figure, arching an eyebrow when he observed the peculiar engineer. "What went wrong with your current project? I could smell the charred metal when I walked in."

"Eh? Why, nothing went wrong! When have I ever had a project backfire, my boy?"

Strive narrowed his eyes, fighting back the urge to roll them across the chaotic room. "Please. If not the smell, then your sooty beard with a portion missing was a dead giveaway of something exploding on you. Yet again." As if to make a point, he mimicked the action of stroking a long beard beneath his chin, an activity Etolous couldn't perform due to his mangled whiskers.

Etolous let out a hardy laugh, running his calloused fingers through his missing facial hair. The remaining white hairs crunched lightly beneath his touch, the charred bristles crumpling with enough pressure. "It didn't fail, I just gained some new knowledge is all! I learned what didn't work, so now I can make it all the more successful!" He brushed a stray, wispy hair away from his eye, leaving behind an ashy streak across his azure skin. "It may look like a failure to some, but with enough perseverance, I'll definitely crack the code one day."

Strive smiled. No matter the difficulties Etolous faced—be it the ridicule, the negativity, or the constant jeering the village sent his way—the man kept his spirits strong, determined to find a way to break their everlasting darkness. Because of this, the boy found comfort and reassurance in his company, their shared values a rarity among the remaining inhabitants of the dreary village. Their similarities brought the two outcasts together in times of great uncertainty. Unlike his grandfather, Etolous was still determined to find a way off the ground, his ultimate goal going beyond the stratosphere of their planet.

The older man kept his gaze focused on his blueprint, reading it over once more in an effort to pinpoint his error. "I was unable to create the synthetic energy source we require to power a vessel. I tried mixing some of my remaining vials together, but the results were . . . explosive to say the least. I guess you already picked up on that anyhow." He flipped over the paper, narrowly missing an inkwell that staggered from the disturbance. "Without our starlight, finding an energy source powerful enough to keep a machine in the air is beyond challenging. Especially when you mix space travel into the mix."

Although Etolous was impossibly optimistic in light of his failures, it was hard for Strive to miss the strain these mishaps were taking on the man. Though they shared the same pesky determination, the two were separated by their cores, Etolous having Dimmed along with the rest of their people. 

The engineer hummed to himself, his eyebrows furrowing together in quiet frustration. "These models are similar to the one Alcadous made long ago, but they're practically useless when our main ingredient is missing . . ."

"I've tried to convince my grandfather to help, but . . ." Strive's shoulders sunk when replayed the same responses his grandfather would give him. First would be sadness, then anger would cloud the Elder's eyes, a sharp string of disapproving words to follow. The boy knew better than to pester his grandfather any further on the matter, yet he kept coming back to the question, earning the same resistance as before. "He always refuses. Says there's nothing to be done. The impossible, he calls it."

"Bah, a load of rocks that Alcadous spews. It's only impossible if you give up! He stopped trying a long time ago, especially after the, uh," he eyed Strive nervously, "the 'departure' that followed the Void's appearance. No, perhaps he was teetering before that . . ." Etolous shook his head. "Ahem. While it was an unfortunate event, that's no reason to lay down and die. If anything, there's more reason to make it to the skies! Isn't that what you always tell me, kid? You've practically drilled it into my old mind by this point, hmm?"

"Yes, we can't give up! We can make it happen, right, Etolous? You're the smartest person in the entire village. If anyone can find a way, it's definitely you!" Strive's gaze weighed into the man with a fiery passion, his core filling the entire room with an irresistible blue light. His eyes held so much intensity, their sheer seriousness threatening to burn holes into anything they crossed paths with.

Etolous had to squint when the younger boy produced his signature blinding glare. "Heh, take it easy there, Strive. My eyes can only take so much at a time." While Strive worked on calming his core, the grizzled engineer turned back to his work, blinking away the spots that dotted his vision. "I appreciate the pep talk, kid. You've always got a way of encouraging me and my hopeless projects. Next time, I'll definitely find the answer. Then we'll be one step closer to the cosmos, okay?"

Balling his fists in excitement, Strive gave an involuntary hop at these words. He tried to suppress his smile in an attempt to look serious, but there was no mistaking the grin that wobbled across his face. "I'll be the pilot, right?"

A bellowing laugh escaped Etolous. He pried himself away from his prints and placed a hand on the boy's head, ruffling his cloudy, pastel hair. "You're damn right, Strive. A kid like you should be the one leading us towards solace. I couldn't imagine a better leader than yourself!" 

Swelling with pride, Strive could hardly contain the excitement that shivered throughout his entire body. He extended his arms—mindfully, of course—and began swaying them back and forth. His entire body moved with the grace of an elegant whirlwind. "Once we make it past the skies, I'll fly us through whatever comes our way! We'll swoop through everything the cosmos holds. We'll jump on debris, soar through trails of dust and come across unknown beasties from space! With you as my co-pilot, we'll navigate the black seas until we find our stolen starlight!" He continued to move his arms in a flying motion, flapping them upwards with an occasional burst of enthusiasm as he tried to lift himself off the ground.

Upon seeing the child's imaginative waltz, Etolous felt both excitement and a pang of sadness hit his muted core. 

Even during his youth, the boy held unimaginable hope for leaving their planet. Although their stars were gone, Strive never lost hope for their dreary home world. On many occasions, Etolous would catch him fixated on the dark skies, his arm extended in the familiar position of his childhood. He would flex his fingers, uselessly palming the place where his treasured star used to reside. The boy's eyes would hold onto a dewy sheet, a cloud of pain muddling his clear gaze. Nausea would wash over the grizzled engineer when he beheld the sight, such a pure form of longing having never been produced until the child's ultimate loss.

To bring Strive's wish to life was his prime goal, but he wasn't sure how much he could truly provide. While the idea of being his co-pilot—more like a caretaker if he were being completely honest—was an alluring one, he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold his end of the bargain when the time came. If it ever came. He was an old engineer, seen as a washed up tinkerer by the rest of the village. The years he spent in isolation after the Void's assault had led his people to see him as nothing more than a hermit who occasionally walked the streets. Not only that, but the years had not been kind to him. Like many of the older inhabitants, they were severely weakened by the loss of starlight. It was a miracle he hadn't Faded like so many of his old friends. Thinking back, it was most likely his drive to help Strive that kept him functioning on the dead planet.

Etolous had his doubts. They didn't know what was out there at all. What if there was nothing? Just an empty landscape to get lost in? What if he did succeed in leaving the ground; how was an old man like himself meant to survive long enough to look out for the boy? What was really beyond their small world? These were questions that left Etolous unable to sleep, ones that Strive was fully aware of.

Despite not knowing what lay beyond their stratosphere, the boy held onto a firm belief that they could make it no matter the odds. Even after all of the failures Etolous faced, he forced himself to persevere. Not just for himself, but for the little dreamer that kept him company through the dark days. If it wasn't for Strive, Etolous would never have found a need to reignite his youthful passions. While it was painful that his previous partner wanted nothing to do with his studies anymore, his grandson was more than a perfect fit to encourage him to continue his work. If not Alcadous and no longer Avida, then certainly Strive would carry on the legacy. Perhaps even succeed unlike those before.

Bidding farewell to these thoughts, Etolous brought the excited boy back to his senses. "Say, why don't you go back to your gramps now, yeah? You've been away for quite some time now. The skies may be blank, but that doesn't give you an excuse to ignore the clocks, now does it?" Etolous held a teasing tone to his words, a grin finding its way to his lips when he saw comedic shock flash across the youngster's features.

Looking at one of the mercifully bare walls, Strive nearly toppled over when he saw how long he had been out for. With a quick goodbye and an even more hasty departure, the boy staggered down the bare streets towards his nearby home. Using his hands to cover up during his run, he gasped for air and dashed down the familiar roads, staying clear of any alleyways that lingered near the sides. Although the stars were no longer supplying clues towards the time, they had developed alternative clocks as their replacement, supplying accurate time across the village. Etolous was the one to thank for that clever invention.

Unfortunately for Strive, this meant his grandfather was well aware of how late he was. Especially since he was waiting in the kitchen the boy had left him in, an unamused glare greeting him once he barrelled into the doorway.

  
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After receiving the tongue lashing of a lifetime from his grandfather, Strive sat in his room with a sombre silence, his ears still lowered in a heated shame. He had been quite horrible towards his grandfather. Storming out after having a fight, forgetting to cover up his core and arriving back home after countless hours were some of the most inconsiderate things he could have done. His grandfather had been worried sick, checking every inch of his body to make sure no harm had come to him when he was out alone. Unfortunately, a nasty purple mark had begun to form where Aster had punched him, his cheek feeling sore to the touch. Seeing how distressed his grandfather had been about a simple punch, he decided it was best to hide the swelling bruises that crawled across his rib cage, each breath a struggle as he tried to conceal his pain. At that point, he regretted ever leaving the house. He knew his grandfather was growing weaker each day. Causing him unnecessary stress was beyond irresponsible.

His grandfather sent him to his room soon after, leaving him with the heavy note of being 'disappointed' by his actions. Such a simple word held so much power, sending a suffocating guilt through his core. It felt like there was a knot twisting in the centre of his chest, all these conflicting emotions sending his core into a dull flutter. Unable to deal with the light show on his chest, Strive grimaced, covering up his infuriating blessing. Sometimes he wasn't sure what he should think about himself.

Feeling overwhelmed, he fell back on his bed with a sigh. With his eyes trained to the ceiling, he began his usual ritual of tracing the missing stars in the sky, having memorized their position when he was just a small child. He could still hear his mother's encouraging words, her gentle voice whispering to him the secrets of the starlight above. She would guide his small hand towards the glimmering lights, reciting a story about each one she saw:

_Those two stars are close together because they are the best of friends. When it gets colder, they huddle together for warmth and shine brighter, laughing in each other's company. They possess such a special connection with each other. Their friendship—it's eternal._

_That star often dances alone, his silent form wavering as he encourages the other stars to dance with him. If you look close enough, you may catch the others joining in as well._

_Right there; that's the star with a mighty temper. You can see him growl with fury when the other stars ignore him. This is why I always say to be kind, Strive. Or else the stars might not want to be friends with you, either._

Strive smiled as he continued to remember his past, a warm feeling spreading through his core as he thought back to this treasured moment in time. By an unshakable habit, he raised his arm towards the ceiling, slowly flexing his fingers and holding them in their practised position. "And that star, mama," he whispered to himself, his voice struggling to be heard. "What about that star?"

Her laugh resonated throughout his quiet room, the bittersweet chuckle light enough to bring him happiness, yet crushing enough to weigh him down further.

_That star, my little Strive, is yours. All the other stars love that one, and for good reason too. They look to him when they're feeling down, lost, or find themselves in times of trouble. That one star makes such a difference in the vast cosmos. When you feel down, reach for your star and know that it will always be there for you. Let it be your courage, Strive. Take that one star and make it your own. I know you can. I can already see the starlight in your eyes._

Strive kept his arm held high, grasping for a body that was no longer there. Even though it was missing, he couldn't forget his star, nor would he ever. His mother had gifted him with that star, making him promise to look towards it in times of uncertainty. In light of recent events, he found himself seeking it out more than usual.

Raising into a sitting position, Strive looked out the small, circular window that occupied his tiny room. Although his grandfather had taken away the ladder he and his mother used to scale the building, the boy had long since found another way towards the roof. Staying mindful of the noise he produced, he grabbed his cloak and bundled himself up in anticipation for the chilled weather that gathered at the top. With practised ease, he gently slid the window up and squeezed his form through. Placing a cautionary foot on the roof tiles, he shifted and swayed until he gradually found his balance. Breathing in a breath of cool air, he began his careful climb up the rickety tiles.

Looking out at the surrounding households, he could make out their rounded outlines amidst the haze of sleeping hours. Like all houses in the village, Strive's home was no different from the rest, though it was a lot more run down than the others. With only two floors inside their round abode, it was an easy and relatively risk free climb to the top of the dwelling. If he ever lost his footing—as he had done a handful of times—he would simply roll down the curved exterior, the dizziness being the worst thing to endure. After a mindful climb to the top, he let out a sigh of relief once he took a seat on the most worn part of the roof.

He loved the sleepy silence of the village, the idea of having a secret hideaway alluring and slightly thrilling for him. Before the Void struck, many Moebians would take the time to gaze at the stars, be it before or after their regular sleeping hours. Now that the sky was a clean slate, nobody took the time to appreciate its vastness anymore. Perhaps it was too painful to look at.

Wrapping his arms around his legs, Strive let his head lull onto his knees. His eyes scanned the empty abyss, his imagination filling in the missing pieces by memory. If he thought hard enough, he could still picture the streaks of light that clawed across the sky on scattered occasions. His mother said they were called 'shooting stars'. He liked to think it was starlight rain.

Strive continued to gaze at the sky for some time, losing himself in the paths he carved from memory. Some would say he was crazy for looking towards a dead space as often as he did, claiming the pain would drive him mad after a few years. He couldn't understand it. While he did feel pain from the missing starlight, he never felt hopelessness. As far as he was concerned, there was always a way to change their fate. If he were to lay down and do nothing, then nothing would get done. Simple as that. No matter how impossible it seemed, he was determined to bring back the stars. If not now, than in his later years. He wouldn't rest until something was done, even if he was the only one willing to take that leap.

Taking the leap—he would probably be the only one who could ever do it. If not for their lack of hope, then certainly the Dimming of the village cores was a sure sign of how desperate he was becoming. If something wasn't done soon, everyone would Fade within a few more years. Strive swallowed nervously, thinking back to his grandfather and his enclosed behaviours. Previously a spry, active man, his grandfather had slowed down recently, appearing to struggle a lot more than usual. His grandfather wouldn't admit it, but Strive could sense his core was beginning to Fade. Already a dull grey, the precious gem was struggling, horribly parched for vital starlight. It was a terrifying thought for the boy, one that drove him forwards in a desperate attempt to make it off the planet before that could happen.

Not just grandfather, but Etolous, the struggling villagers, even that bastard Aster—everyone was in danger. Without a way to find a cure, Strive felt incredibly lost. Alone, misguided; terrified for the impending future. In times like this, his mother often told him to look for his star. Breathing a heavy sigh, he fought back a strangled cry and held his wavering core, hopelessly reaching for his starless skies. His hand hovered over the place where his star should have been.

No, not where it should have been. Where it was _going_ to be. When he walked across the stars, he'd bring them all back home. Every single one. His eyes snapped open, an intense ferocity furrowed on his features. A silent oath escaped his lips, a scream so intense that it lacked any sound to be heard:

_I will bring them back! I will be the starlight that guides us forwards! I will rewrite our fates no matter what comes my way! This is the promise I cross through my core! ___

A silent oath, one that held unbelievable power. One that illuminated the boy in a shield of fluorescent azure light, a beacon for all who wished to look into the blank skies. One that was met with an unexpected listener above.

____

The glow of Strive's core was overtaken by a dramatic emerald wash, the foreign colour shrouding the sleepy village in a coat of mystery. He held his breath, his eyes wide and unblinking as he struggled to keep his vision locked on the alien object above. The breathtaking shard soared through the sky, appearing closer with each passing second as it viciously clawed across the dark abyss. He watched the ball of light disappear beyond the village borders, a thunderous 'crack' reverberating upon impact. The building shook as tremors rocked the land, sending the boy into an unbalanced fight for his footing. When the quakes stopped, he looked out into the distance, relieved to see a faint glow occupy the spot where it crashed.

____

Skimming the broken tiles, Strive flung himself back into his tiny room without much thought. He opened his door and made his way to the main level of the house. As he emerged through the front entrance, he could see countless villagers poking their head out of their homes, expressions of worry and fear painted on their confused faces. As per usual, he was the odd one out in this situation.

____

He felt excitement coursing through his veins.

____

"You can't. Please, Strive. Not you too."

____

The grizzled voice brought Strive back to reality, a chilling guilt washing over him when he heard the pain that spilt from his grandfather's plea. He made the mistake of looking back, taking in the tears that fell from the elder's withered eyes. "Grandfather, I have to. That thing, it's—"

____

"We don't know what it is. We should stay away from it. It could harm you, kill you, take you away! We don't know—"

____

"Grandfather," Strive's words came with a certainty he had never experienced before, tumbling through the air without a chance for him to think. "I know what it is. I just know."

____

His grandfather balled his fists, refusing to look his grandson in the eye as tears flowed down his cheeks. "You can't! It's suicide! I've already lost Avida, I can't lose you too! I-I can't . . . not again, Strive. Please . . ." The elderly man fell to his knees, his overwhelming emotions taking advantage of his weakened form. Strive rushed forwards, steadying his shaky grandfather in his arms.

____

"Grandfather, you're sick. I've seen how you struggle and the way you try to hide it from me and everyone else. You need to let me help you." Strive placed a hand over his glowing core, his vision becoming blurred from the sorrows that threatened to spill over. "You have to trust me. Please. This is what I've been waiting for. I can change our fates."

____

His grandfather gripped his arm, squeezing it tightly. "How do I know you'll be okay? How do I know you'll come back alive? How do I know you won't end up like Avida?"

____

At the mention of his mother, the boy felt a tightness in his chest. "You just have to trust me. I made a promise that I have no intention of breaking. I will bring back the starlight even if it kills me." He leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around his grandfather. "If I end up like my mother, at least I died doing what was right."

____

Beneath his embrace, Strive felt his grandfather stiffen. A sob escaped his lips. "I can't stop you, can I?"

____

"No . . . I'm sorry, grandfather. I have to do this." He offered the elderly man a small smile, taking his trembling hand and placing it over his vibrant core. "You trust me, don't you?"

____

The Elder remained silent, shivering from his sobs as Strive awaited a response. After a few moments of uneasy silence, his grandfather managed a simple response. "Go."

____

Strive nodded, using his cloak to wipe away the leftover tears he had shed. After making sure his grandfather was in a safe and comfortable place, he bolted for the door, his legs carrying him with the swiftness of Moebius' winds. Bewildered villagers watched him rush through the streets, his fervent core lighting up the town like a secondary comet. He had almost made it to the edge of the village before he made a quick pit stop, the familiar domain of a certain engineer filling his vision for the last time.

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


Etolous wasn't surprised to see the boy. In preparation for his arrival, he brewed up another beverage for him, though he knew it would most likely be rejected. Still, it was a habit of his that he never intended on breaking anytime soon. "Come to say your farewells, eh?"

____

Etolous nearly fell back when Strive barrelled into him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He could see the damp streaks that flowed down the boy's light blue face. "You said goodbye to gramps, right?" Strive nodded into his clothing, wiping his tears away in the process. Etolous couldn't help but laugh at his childish behaviors.

____

"Are you sure you can't come with me?"

____

The engineer smiled sadly, crouching down so he could better match Strive's height. "As much as I want to, we both know this old man would be a useless co-pilot." He ruffled the boy's hair, something he would definitely miss doing. "I appreciate you wanting to include me on your journeys, but I think this is something only you can do alone."

____

Strive sniffled, wiping his eyes into his sleeve once more. "It could just be something that fell from the sky. I don't even know what it is."

____

"Strive, you wouldn't have come running with such energy if you didn't think it was something important. Something tells me that thing is your ticket off this hunk of rock. Your intuition is killer, kid." When Strive said nothing, Etolous offered one final form of comfort. "I'll look after him. He'll be in good hands while you're away. We'll all be okay; even better when you bring back the stars."

____

The boy's eyes flashed to life, his shoulders rising as a swell of pride flowed through him. "Yes, I-I promise!"

____

"Tsk, then get out of here, kid! Someone's got to bring your gramps the beverages you never drink. At least someone will appreciate my hospitality now!" Despite the sharpness, Strive could see through his words, offering one last hug before he ran out the door.

____

Past the village, through the waters and between the rock pillars of the land, Strive let his core carry him to his ultimate destination. He couldn't explain it, but the object had called him forwards, its silent voice beckoning for him to find it. What was it? Realistically, he had no idea what could be calling him to the abandoned lands beyond civilization. He couldn't articulate what it was, and yet he couldn't stop hearing the answer from his screaming core—it was shockingly clear.

____

Something important had crashed down to the planet, and it was howling for his unspoken name.

____


	4. Take to the Cosmos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ominous black shard brings back many memories, some of which Strive wishes he could forget. Yet this strange object holds more secrets than answers, prompting him to take a staggering leap of fate. Unsure of what his destiny holds, Strive decides it's time to take it into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/08/21) Image by the superbly skilled [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/63283903#workskin) **

Strive traversed the uneven land beneath him, his boots struggling to keep traction on the slippery surfaces. On occasion, he would lose his footing, a startled gasp escaping him as debris tumbled from underneath. Gritting his teeth, the young boy pushed forwards despite the protest from his aching feet. The grey landscape stretched before him, a trail of billowing smoke serving as his only compass towards the fallen object. While the wicked tremors had long since stopped, he could sense a different energy pulsating from the ground. The best way he could describe it was gorgeously ethereal.

Nearing the top of the rocks, he felt his breath climb to his throat at the sight before him, his eyes wide as they tried to take in every last detail. Partially submerged in the waters below rested a large black shard, its terrifying points facing the sky it fell from. The object had carved a horrid line through the earth upon impact, treating the minerals as if it were a soft material; Strive watched the water pool into their new basin, following the gash with a healing flow. The strange object sizzled and smoked, the nauseating smell of sulfur quickly assaulting his nose. While all the dangerous characteristics of this object would drive any sane wanderer away, he could feel himself being pulled forwards, his intense curiosity getting the better of his senses.

He hastily slid down the rocky cliffside, his core throbbing painfully as he neared the shard. Upon reaching the ground, he felt frozen. Nearly ten times the size of him, the black shard towered above his tiny frame. Taking a step back, Strive felt a pang of fear as the object terrorized him, its menacing exterior bringing back memories from that dreadful day; the day the Void stole the stars.

Knees buckling, Strive struggled to stay upright, a nervous sweat beginning to break across his forehead. He could still hear it after so many years. The tearing, ripping, and shredding of the pentrawrens as their essence flew into the abyss. The stars flashing in protest; taken from their domain, bodies torn and mutilated while the Void plucked them from the skies. The ear-splitting howl that he had produced, one he still heard during his worst nights alone. It was all there. Now, he was face-to-face with his greatest nightmare.

And yet . . . the fear he felt was overshadowed by a desire to move forwards. The need to get closer to this cold, empty husk of destruction. Half of him was screaming to get away; to run and hide from the monster of the dark skies. This gluttonous demon. Thief of the stars. The executioner of his people. Bringer of death.

The other half was willing him to move towards it, a strange force beckoning him into a feeling of . . . warmth? By habit, Strive placed a quivering hand on his radiant core, surprised to feel a steady pulse coming from his chest. He was shaking like a wind torn flower, and yet he was so calm? Taking another look at the terrifying shard, he narrowed his eyes and observed all of its details up close. Sleek exterior, threatening spikes and offensive smell; how could this possibly be an object of desire?

Then he noticed something he hadn't seen before; the visible glimmer of stardust in the water. Taken aback, Strive stepped into the lake, oblivious to the uncomfortable chill of the crystal waters. Eyes wide and unmoving, he carefully filtered his fingertips through the shimmering particles. Dropping his hands deeper into the water, the particles eagerly lapped at his arms, clinging to his shirt like a beautiful accessory. Speechless, he examined his attire. There was no doubt that this was stardust. _Genuine_ stardust. Mouth agape, he whipped his head to the dark abyss, expecting a shower of starlight to grace the lands.

There was nothing. Only a desolate black that ruled for many somber years.

Overwhelming joy flowed through Strive's core, the miraculous star ponds a sight he never thought possible. It had been more than a decade since he had felt stardust on his fingers, a feeling he had almost forgotten as the years dragged on. To have it back was a miracle—one with an unexpected deliverer.

He looked towards the black shard, his fear evaporating once he beheld the subtle stardust that glimmered on the object. "You brought this to us, didn't you?" he whispered. The object made no effort to speak, its immobile form resting beneath the waves of fading smoke. Its silence only drove him closer.

"I don't know what you are, but thank you. We've been lost without our stars." Strive lowered his eyes, gazing fondly at the speaks on his arms. "I've always wanted to walk among the stars. It was my dream when I was younger; it still is. I've never given up that hope. The village lost their hope a long time ago, along with my grandfather. Even my friend, Etolous, lost his hope. He still tries to come up with a plan to leave the ground for my sake. But I can tell it's taken a toll on him . . ."

Walking out of the waters, Strive continued his monologue with the unknown listener. "I've been told that I should stop being a dreamer and accept things as they are, that I should give up everything I believe in. But I could never do that—my core is strong, the only vibrant one left in my village. They've all Dimmed, lost their will to live. My grandfather . . . he might Fade if this darkness continues." A few more steps forward, he could make out his reflection on the shard's points. "It all seemed so hopeless. . . .

"But," he continued, a new confidence surging through his core. "I will never give up, even with all the odds stacked against me. Our fates aren't set in stone; I can change it! I made a promise, a promise to bring back the stars! That is my purpose!" Strive lost his reflection when a brilliant light dominated the receiving mirror, engulfing the prism in his vibrant aura. _"I will be the starlight that guides us forward!"_

He placed his palm onto the dull surface, the cool material sending a shiver across his arm. A staggering buzz of energy zipped throughout his entire body, sending his hair on edge as the unknown force rushed through him. Unable to breath, Strive let the strange power course through his veins, its foreign warmth attacking his unsuspecting nerves. Suddenly, the sleek exterior began to break up, multiple small buds bubbling towards the surface. They clawed at his hand, quickly spreading upwards as they absorbed him and the stardust that decorated his shirt. With no time to react, he gave a loud yelp as the black substance pulled him forwards, countless dark blooms carrying him into the unknown object.

Fearing the risk of suffocation, Strive tried to fight the unseen foe. He desperately wriggled and fought the numerous blooms, a cry of distress the only thing to escape the invisible prison. To his surprise, no sooner had he struggled did he find himself in an open space, the uncomfortable buds melting into the black walls around him. Breathing hard, he looked around frantically, his core serving as a natural light source in the unknown pod. He couldn't see anything except for his warped reflection against the sleek material, its form appearing a lot more round than it did on the outside.

As his anxieties grew, they were countered by immediate shock when incredible things materialize before his eyes. The black blooms gnawed at the air, stacking themselves on one another as they created two identical pillars on each side of the shell. Crawling beneath his feet, the dark blossoms melted together to create a round platform between the pillars. The walls around him raced across the shell, an elaborate desk emerging from the black blooms' cocoon; light poured into the pod as a window carved its way into the shell, beckoning Strive to take a shivering step forwards.

He dragged his eyes over the complex interior, having never seen anything quite like it before. While the initial formation was quick and rough, Strive stopped in place when a second wave of petals made their ways across the new surfaces, smoothing out any sharp edges and adding a softer white glow. Within moments a quiet hum filled the air, the ghostly song low and haunting—a shiver travelled down his spine. Still speechless, he slowly brought his hand over one of the pillars, a hesitant shake evident in his limbs. Swallowing his fear, he carefully placed his palm over the controls, gently caressing the strange circle that decorated the top.

The vessel jerked violently to one side, sending Strive tumbling to the hard ground. Though he could not see the exterior, he felt a definite shift in both form and weight. Pulling himself to his feet, he rushed to the newly formed window, careful to keep his hands to himself for the time being. Peering into the starry waters, he inhaled sharply once he beheld the soft shape that replaced the rough, black shard.

He could see the dark buds imploding into themselves as they made way for a smoother object, void of any startling points or cold intimidation. The newly formed vessel was stark white, its round body travelling along the edge of the viewing window, its backside ending in two equally rounded fins. Strive felt weightless, unbalanced in this new form; he was amazed to see that they were hovering above the small pond. The singular fin below the ship rested peacefully above the water, refusing to disturb the crystal lakes. The shape of this vessel reminded him of something from his memories long ago. Unspeakably gentle and kind.

Taking a step back from the window, Strive tried to compose himself through a series of deep breaths. _This is amazing_ , he thought to himself. The shard was actually some kind of vessel. One that was technologically advanced beyond his people's comprehensions. Everything was so foreign. Clean and stark, it was both intriguing and terrifying to observe. What had caused this vessel to crash into their planet?

Amidst the dull hum of the carrier, Strive blinked when his core radiated an intense light, a feeling of certainty making its way through his muddled mind. He looked around the hull of the ship, feeling both lost and comfortable at the same time. He didn't know what this vessel was here for, and yet . . . he felt a connection to it. Standing in this shell felt right. It felt like an anchor towards his ultimate purpose. A way in which he could finally escape the ground and find his wings for the skies above.

"Have you . . . been waiting for me?" The vessel said no words, its soft, droning song continuing in the background. Strive looked around aimlessly. "What am I supposed to do?" Again, nothing met his voice. Haunting echoes drawled through the hull, serving as an eerie reminder of how alone the boy felt. He sighed, thorns of malicious doubt beginning to invade his mind. What was he to do?

He thought back to his village, specifically to the harsh glares he experienced during his walks through town. Jealousy, pity, annoyance, and rage all directed his way. Their voices would blend together, a negative symphony meant to destroy his hope. Steal it away like the lights of their cores. He could also feel their fear; it overshadowed their initial intent. Deep down, they were all so scared.

He thought back to Etolous. The older man was always helping him and encouraging his dreams, and yet he had Dimmed long ago. Perhaps he was only helping out of pity, his helpfulness masking the irritation that burned beneath the surface. He had always expressed some doubts over their goals. Maybe he was doubtful of Strive.

Strive's mind wandered to his grandfather; his throat tightened instantly. His biggest supporter during his childhood eventually became his biggest resistance, telling him to give it all up. The odds were against him, his dreams just fairy tale. He could never understand Strive's perseverance, having decided long ago to stand by and watch the world wither around them. In a sense, the man had already chosen to die.

At the thought of his grandfather, heated shame crept into Strive's core. He could still hear the elder's warning; a suicide mission was all he was looking for. There was no way to bring back what was taken from them. That statement always seemed to include his mother as well—a terrible grief invaded the boy's soul whenever he thought of her. If his grandfather had it his way, he would have laid down and died along with the rest of his people. Their fate couldn't be changed.

But it could.

Doing nothing was a fate worse than death. His village, his companions, his grandfather . . . they would all Fade without someone taking a stand. They were scared, their hope beaten out of them when they lost to the war of misfortune. But Strive wasn't scared. He was hopeful. Determined to see the light again. Even though he faced astronomical odds, there was always a chance. The hope he strived for would always be within his reach, so long as he took the steps to claim it.

Pushing away all thoughts, a rejuvenating sense of courage coursed through Strive's veins, banishing all the doubt he had been feeling up to this point. He was tired of being silent. He yearned for a voice of hope to shine through, now realizing that he was to take on that role for himself. He was determined to succeed, willing to put his life on the line in order to seal away the darkness. 

The plague of the cosmos; Strive was determined to become its cure.

His body moved on its own, no longer timid as he boldly walked to the middle of the vessel. His core squeezed harshly, his blood pumping in his ears like a thunderous drum. This adrenaline, it was incredible. He let his mind go blank, raising his arms so they hovered over the two pillars. Everything was quiet except for the quiet hum, the vessel's breath bated as it awaited its owner's next move. Strive closed his eyes and waited. He had no idea what this vessel was, but he knew that deep down, it held the wings he had been longing for since his youth.

His eyes snapped open, a blinding resolve setting his gaze aflame. Without hesitation, Strive slammed his palms down onto the pillars, the rounded bases cupping perfectly into his hands. He felt a sharp shift at his sides. He didn't need to see them to know what they were; two pairs of long, angular white wings had emerged from the shell. Within moments, the quiet purr was overtaken by a high-pitched whirring, the sound of white hot ignition burning behind him. He could feel the vessel jerk into the air, the hiss of combustion becoming deafening as it charged its engine. Then, the world became nothing more than a disorienting blur.

A curtain of intense light engulfed him in an instant, his vision introduced to a dazzling display of swirling colours, tangled trails and unexpected turbulence. His entire body felt like it was being pushed back into a wall, yet he managed to stay in place against the overwhelming force. His hair coursed behind him in a display of cloudy curls, an invisible wind whistling through his feathered ears. His cape flowed through the streams of incandescent paint, appearing to move through this ethereal environment with ease. Once he gained his bearings, Strive no longer felt the force working against him, instead inviting him to behold the sights in front of him. With turbulence forgotten, he fell into the comfort of the glossy currents, tendrils of different values lapping at the vessel he controlled.

The warmth he felt was indescribable. For more than a decade, he had been cast into darkness. With their starlight stolen, Strive has forgotten the true joy that came with beholding the different colours of the cosmos. Surrounded by greys, black, and the occasional glow of his own core, colour had been simplified to a shallow definition. As he travelled through this magnificent vortex, it all came back to him. His mouth moved in time with their names, silently reciting their unique shades and different hues. He swore he could see the specific shade of pentawrens whip past him, wishing they would stay a little longer in his view. He couldn't help but smile—turquoise had always been one of his favorite colours.

Lost in the light show surrounding him, Strive noticed the ribbons of colour beginning to break apart, their forms twisting and curling into unstable ropes. The vessel began to wobble haphazardly, prompting Strive to turn his attention towards the hull. His arms were still hovering over the pillars, a position he felt he had to hold if he ever wanted to get out of this colour palette. Sensing that his time was nearing an end, he leaned forward, his hands extending outwards as he willed himself forwards; the pillars followed his every move, uprooting their position to better match his quick dexterity. The wings of the vessel mimicked his flexibility, bending to the will of its pilot by narrowing its form for extra speed.

The wings of the ship folded in on themselves as they pressed closer to their sides, an extra boost of speed propelling them forward. The ignition from the fins hissed loudly as they tested their limits, an electric blue flame searing a trail behind the rocketing vessel. Unthinkable was the resistance Strive felt against his arms, the struggle of the ship transferring to the inexperienced pilot as well. Gritting his teeth, he let a low growl escape his throat as he exerted himself further through the vortex. The entire vessel was shaking, noticeable fatigue wearing away at his limbs. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Suddenly, the prismatic whirlwind ceased entirely. The colorful world disappeared in a flash of light, leaving him to fly into the desolate, grey territory. Overcome by new found weightlessness, Strive let his arms flow freely as the vessel bent to his will, swimming effortlessly through the debris that drifted through the unknown terrain. The white ship soared past the suspended objects, avoiding impact whenever the risk arose. Now that piloting had become easier, he decided to take the time to survey his surroundings.

It was quite a shock to be back in the world of black and grey, especially after the unbelievable kaleidoscope he had just travelled through. Peering out the window, Strive observed some floating rocks curiously, having never seen anything like it before. Nothing on Moebius floated like these rocks did. It would seem that gravity had no effect here. Perhaps this rule also applied for the entire cosmos.

The thought suddenly barrelled into him. He was here. He had made it to the cosmos. He had done it! Pride swelled through his core, his excitement seeming to react with the vessel as well, the strange ship swaying back and forth in a gesture of glee. He couldn't help but laugh, the entire ordeal much too absurd to handle at once. First it was a shard, then a ship for him to control. Nothing made sense right now, but there was no denying how right it felt for him. The answers he wanted wouldn't present themselves at this moment, but that didn't matter in the slightest. What mattered was that he was here—he had reached the skies.

However, the skies were not what he had expected. It was quiet, a foreboding sense of loneliness creeping across his spine. There appeared to be nothing. No sign of any civilization or settlements. Surely there had to be signs of life somewhere else? For the cosmos to be empty seemed . . . disappointing. Not only were his planet's stars missing, it seemed as if all the stars were missing from the cosmos. Strive swallowed painfully, a sense of dread gripping his body. How big was the cosmos, truly?

Strive's thoughts were interrupted when his vessel jerked to the side on its own, throwing its pilot off balance. Pushed backwards, he quickly repositioned himself in an effort to reclaim his wild ship. He then looked outside the viewing window, wondering what had sent his ship into a fit. It wasn't clear at first. The shape seemed to be torn apart, smaller bits of debris and dust floating near the cracked exterior. Wanting to get another angle, he willed his ship to hover below the broken mass, an astonished gasp escaping him once he took in the sight.

It appeared to be another vessel, one unlike his own. It was exceedingly larger, the exterior rough, weathered and crippled by staggering amounts of rusty residue. The vessel had been split down the middle, the culprit of the damages having long disappeared into the abyss. Painted a dirty auburn, the carrier seemed ancient, years of damage having withered the integrity the ship. Amidst his gawking, he nearly missed another abandoned vessel in his wake.

It wasn't just a couple of stranded ships. Countless deteriorated corpses littered the skies, the majority of passing rocks getting lost in fields of rusted metals. As he travelled through the graveyard, a powerful sense of unease gnawed at his core. These ships served as concrete evidence that there was life outside of his planet. It was the fact that they were all abandoned, shredded, and mutilated that left him with a bad taste in his mouth. As his little pod zipped through the empty air, he briefly wondered if there was a reason they had all been destroyed. Hopefully his vessel wasn't on the hit list anytime soon.

As time dragged on, Strive found himself gradually escaping the junkyard's grasp, the amount of dead ships beginning to distance themselves and diminish rapidly. Soon, there was nothing but the familiar spin of weightless rocks. Strive swayed his arms in time with the vessel's movements, practicing his mobility in order to get a better handle on his ship. As practice went on, so did his growing concerns. For the first time since take-off, he came to realize how ill-prepared he was for this journey. With only his intuition to guide him, he had made the hasty decision to go with his gut and leave his planet. He felt like kicking himself for forgetting basic essentials such as food and water.

The rocky fields dragged on endlessly, showing no signs of possessing any forms of sustainable life. What did that mean for him in the foreseeable future? How was he meant to survive such a hostile environment in the first place? Surely the ships in that graveyard meant something living had inhabited them; surely they were near some sort of sustainable spot? Perhaps a planet other than Moebius held undocumented life? Head throbbing from overuse, Strive wished he had thought his plan through before deciding to act upon it. Cold dread twisted his stomach, the sharp blade penetrating the walls of his centre—he heard an echo of his grandfather's words from so long ago.

_This is suicide! Did you hear what I said?!_

At a time like this, why must he remember those words? Had he really embarked on a suicide mission, destined to never return? He thought to his mother and the reputation she gained among the villagers. The woman who launched herself into the atmosphere, never to be seen again. Was Strive following in her footsteps? If not her unwavering morals, then certainly her death?

For the first time in years, Strive was woken up from his dreams. The painful screech of reality jostled his entire figure, the shock sending him into a numb trance. Again, another impact shook him, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground. Reality's assault continued, taking his vessel and violently agitating it with an unseen force. His vision was beginning to twist from the onset of pain. Then he stopped, eyes narrowed in confusion. It was true that reality had hit him hard, but it wasn't supposed to hit _that_ hard! Casting his revelation aside, he peered out the window to see what he knocked into, raising his sore arms in preparation to avoid whatever it was that he had hit.

Or rather, _who_ had hit him.

Strive gasped, his core flashing in quick bursts once he beheld the object behind the attack. Although smaller than the debris he had encountered, the intimidating ship was considerably bulkier than his own passive vessel. The large nose of the ship dipped downwards like an inverted shovel, sturdy steel beams wrapping themselves to the back of its massive, green engine. The ship made another dive towards the boy, its sharp wings gaining more momentum as its symmetric engines blasted forth more speed. Strive quickly veered out of the way, his vessel narrowly avoiding the deadly flames that spat from the main engine. As if to scare him further, the ship had two additional engines near the back that shot excessive flares, this tricky tactic actually managing to graze one of his vessel's wings. Strive howled in pain when the heat reflected onto himself, his skin screaming as if it were submerged in a pit of flames.

Desperate to get away, Strive shot his hands forwards and ordered his vessel to flee. While his carrier sputtered pitifully, he risked glancing backwards, his breath coming out in sharp, greedy gasps. The hostile ship had managed to turn itself around, blasting forth a green cloud of flames as it quickly gained on the frightened traveller. He tensed his entire body, desperately screaming for his ship to move. Its response was weak, delayed by the painful impact it was trying to recover from. Strive couldn't blame it; his arm was riddled with searing pain from the emerald blaze that licked his charred skin.

The enemy ship was about to strike again, the larger wings gathering energy in preparation for a final blow. Strive's eyes reflected the sickly green that slowly built up, the weapons trained on him and his little vessel. He went to cover his face, the vessel's wings drooping down when it lost its pilot's direction. Even through the walls of his ship he could hear the high-pitched whir as the cannons prepared to shoot. Not only that, but an insidious drumming that rocked his vessel back and forth, a steady rhythm presumably meant to send him off to his death.

It was moments like this where he wished he had never left his little planet behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you're enjoying the story so far! Shoot me a comment and let me know what you think! Thank you so much, lovely readers! :^)


	5. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with hostile foes and languages he cannot understand, Strive desperately tries to escape these terrifying figures in a flight for his life. Even if he does escape, who knows what challenges lie beyond a simple game of cat and mouse? Reality can often be blinding to those unprepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/08/29) Image by the outstanding [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/63688501#workskin) **

Strive’s vessel rattled from the vibrations of the enemy carrier, a green glow washing over his ship as a blast of energy prepared for release. Amidst the panic and fear, he curled himself into a protective ball, covering his ears in effort to block out the persistence shrieking his vessel was generating. Perhaps it was a warning of its imminent doom; too bad he was already painfully aware of the position he was in. Give it a few moments and he would be nothing more than extra dust to float through the cosmos. There go his precious few moments of freedom, reduced to atoms by some hostile passerby in the abyss. How cruel was that? He hadn’t even gathered his bearings yet!

The shrieking continued, tuning out the assailant's insidious drumming. The boy had no idea where the whine was coming from, but he wished it would stop. He would much rather a quiet death than one full of unnecessary additions. He risked opening his eyes one last time, his curiosity getting the better of him during his approaching demise. To his surprise, the green light had ceased, his vessel once again doused in the soft azure of his core. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a different ship rocketing across the skies, the sleek design a mere flash of yellow when it zoomed past his vessel; it approached the hostile ship within seconds. 

Strive could hardly believe his eyes; the green ship had stopped its assault the moment the other ship approached it, the two vessels floating side-by-side as if immersed in a silent conversation. He silently hoped they weren’t thinking of resuming the attack, especially now since there were two of them. Gathering his thoughts through the chaos, he followed the persistent beeping that plagued his vessel, his attention pulled towards the strange control panel beneath the viewing window. 

Rising on unsteady legs, he clutched his burning arm and hobbled towards the panel. A strange, blue light pulsated on the window, the complicated controls reacting to the screen above. Various buttons littered the table, each one a mystery—an incomprehensible mess. Among the options was a flashing button, its steady rhythm beckoning for him to press it. Seeing as he had nothing else to lose, he gave in to the temptation. A different sound followed, the pitch high and positive in a wordless conformation. 

With everything going on, Strive hoped this would somehow get him away from those terrifying ships. Without his hands over the pillars, he discovered that he was unable to move. This meant that his participation was key in piloting the vessel. 

Another thing he learned: pain transferred to the user. Although he never received a physical blow from the other ship, his vessel had been grazed on the outside, the searing heat mirroring on his arm. Just thinking about it made his limb ache once more, his other hand gripping the wound beneath his shirt. Perhaps he would discover more about his odd ship as time went on—that is, if he lived long enough to find out!

Amidst his frantic woes, an unknown insignia suddenly materialized onto the screen, the simple star appearing to be encased within an upside down triangle. The boy narrowed his eyes, trying to follow the form as his screen flickered from static-like interference. He had never seen this crest before. Was this some sort of signal that he was supposed to interpret? Confused, he flicked his gaze across the bizarre symbol, his head tilted in both deep concentration and gnawing weariness.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He hadn’t been among the cosmos for more than a few hours and he was already close to collapsing! Chest thumping painfully, breath staggered and spread, his arm wrapped in searing pain; this was by far the worst introduction he had ever received. Not only that, but the welcoming committee wanted to kill him! Not with kindness, but with actual weapons! 

Ironically, one of their weapons also happened to be the element of surprise. As Strive mulled over his entire existence, the screen in front of him flashed to life, the sudden action sending him tumbling to the ground. He clutched his core in fear, shaking with fright when he traced his eyes over the foreign figure. 

Its eyes were completely black. Or perhaps obscured by a black visor? Strive wasn’t sure anymore, hesitant of what he should believe in this unfamiliar terrain. The figure wore an elongated orange head piece, the dramatic hat stretching well beyond the limitations of the screen. The covering appeared to wrap around its entire head, their ears—perhaps they didn’t even have ears in the first place, he wondered—hidden underneath strange, white cups. Surrounding the headpiece was the drapery of a beige fabric, its exact length obscured by a red scarf around the figure’s shoulders.

What struck him the most was the being’s strange complexion; unlike the soft white and azure tones of Moebians, this figure held a peachy tint to its skin, a prominent swipe of brown facial hair resting beneath its nose. It was jarring to say the least. This strange figure was the opposite of his kind, drenched in warm colours that assaulted the eye upon contact. It was definitely different, but interesting at the same time. 

The figure looked towards the screen, invisible eyes trained on the boy's form. Strive gulped, a nervous chill curling across his spine. It felt like the figure was right in front of him, though he quickly deduced that this screen was probably a projection of some kind. Moebius had nothing close to this type of advance technology. The easiest thing he could compare it to was the reflections across the lakes of his planet. You could see an image, but that didn’t mean it was real on the other side; he assumed this screen functioned the same way. He could probably run his fingers through the image if he was feeling brave enough. However, now was not the time—he was currently quaking in his shoes, heckled by his frightening reality. 

The being did nothing for a few seconds, their body moving to the side as they appeared to fiddle with something off screen. Then came their loud, booming voice that filled the entire vessel. Strive’s core skipped a beat as the voice assaulted his sensitive hearing, his hands moving to protect his aching ears. Oblivious to the boy's discomfort, the figure continued speaking, the end of their words raised with an upwards inflection. It sounded like they were asking a question, but Strive was lost as to what they could possibly be saying. He understood nothing, their native tongue foreign and harsh. 

Strive grimaced, his voice shaking when he addressed the figure. “I-I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you.” The figure on the screen seemed to perk immediately, their mouth agape once they heard his response. Was it possible that they understood him? Desperation throbbed within his core, a small glimmer of hope blossoming when he realized there was a chance that he could negotiate his way out of this situation. “Please, just let me go. I was only passing through! I don’t even know where I am, but I’m sorry that I crossed your paths.”

He gripped his arm, his burn beginning to swell painfully. “I don’t want any trouble, so please don’t attack me again. I’ll leave—please believe me!”

The figure tilted their head in what appeared to be concern, their obscured eyes trained on Strive’s wound. They spoke again, their words a muddled mess of syllables, annunciations and upward inflections as they bombarded him with unknown questions. Strive shook his head in desperation, frustrated tears welling up to the surface. “I don’t understand! I can’t understand you!”

The figure grit its teeth and rubbed its temple, looking from side to side to whatever resided off screen. The strange being began its monologue once again, but this time its words weren’t directed at the young traveller. Strive could hear different voices occupy the screen, their unseen forms communicating to the pointed being. Their foreign tones overlapped one another, causing his head to spin when he tried to follow even one. 

The being in front of him possessed a light, waved voice, perhaps harbouring the potential for humour if it weren’t faced with such a serious situation. Another voice exploded across the intercom, their gravelled tones low and rumbly. A shiver crawled up Strive’s spine when the unseen figure growled, the image of a terrifying beastie instantly crashing into his mind. He didn’t know what was behind that voice, but he definitely didn't want to find out. The voice grumbled and snarled with a deep, bassy tone; he could hear their teeth click and salivate with each new sound. Strive paled when he imagined what lurked behind those rumbles.

While not a clear tone, Strive could make out a consistent, rhythmic strumming on some sort of device. Perhaps not an actual voice, but a way in which one of the beings communicated through a type of code. Whatever it was, the figure on the screen seemed to follow what they were saying, nodding their head and emoting towards the screen, probably directing their conversation towards the Moebian. Among the mysterious dialect, growls, and accompanying clicks came mechanical whirring, a familiar drumming gripping him with cold claws; he recognized those awful vibrations from before. They were in cahoots with the ship that had tried to kill him!

Feeling claustrophobic beneath their strange languages, Strive’s core flashed violently as the instinct to run away dominated his entire body. The figure on the screen must have taken notice of his panicked state, releasing a quick shout and outstretching its hand in an attempt to keep him still. He shook his head, scared to imagine what would happen to him if he stayed any longer. “Just let me go!” 

Various voices on the intercom bombarded the figure once they heard Strive’s cry; they must be able to understand him as well. The peachy being silenced the other voices with a sharp tongue, an edge of distress evident in its voice. The being lowered their tone, stretching out their words and lacing them with calm and gentle intentions. This didn’t ease Strive's fears at all, his legs moving faster as he positioned himself between the pillars of his ship. The figure shook its head frantically when he hobbled to the pillars, moving its arms in a criss-cross motion as desperation took hold—it definitely didn’t want him to escape. 

Despite the pain in his arm, Strive willed himself to tough it out as he lowered his palms to the pillars, his vessel coming to life once its pilot regained control. He felt the vessel shift as thin, dexterous wings erupted at the sides. He could see the charred area where the enemy ship had attacked, the wing seeming to tremble from the trauma it had endured. He grimaced when an agonizing spike shot up his arm, his tears surfacing in reaction to the pain. Now was not the time to focus on such a minor detail; he had to escape these dangerous ships.

Deaf to the protests on the screen, he willed his vessel to flee the area, its engines emitting a high-pitched whir as a blinding, blue light erupted from the back boosters. The vessel zipped forwards with a brilliant flash, leaving the two ships to become tiny specks in the distance. Unfortunately for Strive, it appeared that the two ships were already on his trail, a steady glow of green and yellow quickly gaining speed on his smaller vessel.

Breathing heavily, Strive’s core seized terribly as he fled into the unknown. In an effort to evade his pursuers, he purposely sent his ship barreling into whatever piece of debris he crossed paths with. He was amazed by the surprising amounts of dexterity he possessed while piloting the ship, his movements bending in perfect sync with his carrier as they danced across the floating roadblocks. Whenever he dared to glance backwards, he felt a smirk grace his lips when he saw the struggle that the bigger ships faced, their acrobatic skills nowhere near his own. 

His relief was short-lived once the rocks were blown apart, the two ships gliding effortlessly through the dust their weapons created. What they lacked in mobility was quickly made up for in sheer strength. Strive felt a wave of nausea wash over him. If they could reduce rocks to dust, imagine what they could do to him and his little vessel. With fear coursing through his veins, he shot forwards with an extra burst of speed, his core flashing sporadically as the chase continued. 

Dodging the debris was a simple task at first, but as the minutes dragged on, Strive felt weariness grip his entire body. He was practically gasping by this point, his gaining pursuers showing no signs of slowing their hunt. They were exceptionally closer now, the details of their ships becoming clear as they closed the distance between them. 

An anguished plea rose to Strive’s throat, his voice cracking as despair flooded his cry. “Leave me alone! I don’t know what you want, but just leave me alone! Please!” The ships made no effort to create contact like before, leaving his cry to float through the empty vessel. No matter how many times he zigzagged, twirled, swooped or circled through the debris, they always managed to find him. Either by avoiding the rocks or blasting through them as a whole. 

Now he was faced with empty skies. With nowhere to hide and nothing to confuse his pursuers, Strive was out of his element. Due to his weakened state, his vessel had begun to slow, its once brilliant engine sputtering in exhaustion. Looking back, the enemy ships had gained the advantage of speed once all distractions were removed. They revved their engines in flashes of green and yellow, focusing their power into raw bursts of speed. Nothing could get worse than this. . . . Or so he thought.

It wasn’t long before two more ships joined the hunt.

Appearing from the sides of the abyss came two additional ships, their appearances vastly different from the two carriers Strive had already familiarized himself with. A flash of red joined the side of the sleek yellow ship, its wings considerably droopier than the rest. They hung low, gliding beneath the angular cockpit that presumably held its pilot. The boy traced his eyes over the underside of the ship, noticing the thick tubing that travelled along the bottom. 

Joining the line up came the gaping maw of a beastie’s skull, the navy vessel having been modeled off a terrifying creature. Artificial eyes tore into Strive’s ship, its blinding glare lighting a path as it rocketed through the sky. He could scarcely make out the silhouette of a lumbering figure, their shape unlike anything he had ever seen before; a frightening beastie resided inside another equally terrifying beast. 

The quartet of hunters quickly gained on Strive, the red and yellow ships having increased their speed so they could come up on either of his sides. He looked back and forth frantically, the ships edging closer in an attempt to box him in; the thought of a potential impact made his limbs ache in anticipated pain. They could crumple his wings, rendering him useless when it came to flying. When they caught him, what were they going to do to him? Where would they take him? For what purpose would they take him captive? Strive's imagination terrorized him as they closed the distance, the heat of their ignition lightly gracing his vessel’s wings. While not enough to hurt him, he could definitely feel an uncomfortable heat beginning to sizzle at his fingertips. 

His time was running out, his options severely limited once the ships began boxing him in. With nowhere to run, what could he do? Strive bit his lip, harshly gnawing at the skin until he tasted the sharp tang of blood; he nearly gagged at the flavour. There had to be a different way to escape these hunters. If he couldn’t go any faster, then . . . “Oh! The tunnel!”

Thinking back to his departure a few hours prior, he remembered how he travelled through the colourful wormhole, all senses of speed, distance and reality lost as his vessel carried him through the abstract space. While it had definitely been a fluke, perhaps he could replicate it another time. But how had he done it? He didn’t have any sort of instruction manual, just his core to guide him forwards. He furrowed his eyebrows as he dug up any information he could quickly utilize. The hostile ships were nearing his vessel with every passing second, their wings practically touching his own. Anything would be great right about now. 

“Agh, what in the blinking stars am I supposed to do?!” Strive slammed his palms into the pillars, his hands curling over the controls like tortured claws. His hissed bitterly, his core flashing vibrantly as frustrations to flee took hold. “Take me somewhere! Anywhere other than _here!”_

His vessel reacted immediately to his desperate pleas, acknowledging his desire to go beyond his current position. The engine began to build up power, the blue ignition turning into a white hot flare as it prepared for a risky escape. His core fluttered with relief when he realized his ship had understood his command. He looked to the hunters at his sides, their close proximity allowing him to make out the features of the cone-headed being. It seemed shocked, its face appearing to reflect some sort of knowledge surrounding the phenomenon. To Strive's surprise, the figure appeared on his vessel's screen, its voice hitched high with warbling panic. The figure waved its arms around the air, trying to make its jumbled language understood. However, both Strive and the being knew it was useless—he had already found his escape route. 

Strive was rocketed backwards when the dazzling tunnel introduced itself once again, wrapping its tendrils around the vessel like a welcoming blanket. Repositioning himself, Strive looked back with a relieved laugh once the hostile ships were nowhere in sight. He let the invisible breeze curl itself around his figure, his hair floating delicately through the opposing speeds of the wormhole. He kept his eyes wide open as he watched the ribbons of colour lick at his vessel’s exterior, its wings carefully dipping into the pools of vibrant hues. The vessel emulated the soft feelings across his palms, encouraging him to let the colours wash over him.

It was unfortunate that this way of travel never lasted long. An uncomfortable turbulence overtook the smooth ride as the ribbons began to loosen and break apart. Strive steadied his posture when the ship shook violently, its wings struggling to find a balanced position. Remembering his first encounter with the tunnel, he began lowering the wings closer to the hull of the ship, encouraging a blast of speed to propel him out of the wormhole. Though his arm was sore and riddled with tremors, he felt a sense of pride envelop him when he made it out of the tunnel with minimal complications, his vessel erupting from the mysterious gateway with a triumphant loop through the skies. Strive whooped and hollered in celebration, his fears pushed aside for a few cherished seconds. 

Now came another challenge he was faced with for the first time: landing.

He peered out the viewing window, gasping loudly when he realized he was diving straight towards the unfamiliar terrain. He shrieked, his arms stiffening as he screamed for his vessel to pull up. Listening to his demands, the white carrier bent its long wings, the appendages moving organically with its pilot’s wishes. The vessel curled its wings slowly, leading the descent into a smooth decline against the open air. The ship cut its engines completely, leaving the shell to glide gracefully to the earth below. Strive wasn’t sure if this was the vessel’s doing or his own subconscious mind pulling all the strings. Either way, he couldn't deny how amazing it was. 

As they neared the ground, Strive felt the ship reignite a few of its engines, the sudden force countering their original downwards motion. The gentle hum from the ignition worked to soften their their fall, encouraging the vessel to swoop peacefully to the ground. The white beast retracted its wings, the small fin at the bottom refusing to touch the earth as it hovered weightlessly above the mysterious terrain. The boy stood still for a moment, slowly adjusting his body to the solid sensation beneath his feet. Then his knees buckled, causing him to fall to the floor in a bout of pure exhaustion. 

He gathered his breath in quick, greedy gasps. His chest squeezed tightly from the adrenaline that coursed through his body; his core was probably the brightest he had ever seen it. Even though he was very relieved to have escaped those hunters, he couldn’t deny the lingering exhilaration that lit his core ablaze. Not even one night in and he had already experienced a situation worthy of a heroic novel. Villains, high speed chases, new found experiences; it was all there! If only the villagers back home could see it.

 _Ah_ , thought Strive, his breath having long been recovered. _My village. Moebius is quite far now, isn’t it?_ He looked up at the ceiling of his vessel, the stark whiteness reflecting the glow of his core. It was thanks to the vessel that he had made it this far. This mysterious force had presented itself before him. No words, just pure actions enough to catapult him into the skies above. It was amazing, yet so strange. Why had it crashed down on Moebius? Why did it choose him? Could it be the answer to bringing back the stars?

Strive pushed himself upwards, hissing quietly when his arm gave a familiar throb. Grimacing, he decided to take a look at the damages underneath his sleeve. Rolling up the damp fabric, he examined the sticky wound across his skin. Although the sluggish flow of blood had stopped, he huffed in disgust at the charred, flaky crust that crawled across his arm. The wound was red and swollen, the scraped skin oozing a clear substance in effort to cover the exposed layers. While he was thankful that the wound wasn’t as bad as he first thought, the pain still sent him to the stars. The exposed skin gave a tactile hiss, an intense sting travelling up his arm with each small movement he made. Without any medical equipment, he was forced to improvise.

Seizing his cloak, he forcefully tore at the decorative fabric, the satisfying shear of an even tear filling the hollow vessel. Wrapping the fabric around his injured arm, he combined his free hand and his teeth to tie the strip snugly around the wound. The exposed cut still burned a fierce pain, but the temporary covering had definitely lessened the intensity. He was no healer, but he sure possessed a steady hand when it came to the necessary things. 

With that issue out of the way, Strive stood up—shakily at first, but soon his new balance found him. He slowly walked towards the tinted window of the ship, peering out at the new landscape below. 

Unlike Moebius, this new land was unbelievably bright. The skies were a light blue, the strange solid colour travelling across the entire sky; this was unlike the somber disease of his dark planet. Strive could make out the hazy detail of two circular shapes hanging in the sky, similar to the blank moon that constantly watched over his people. Despite not having stars, this place was eerily lit. He couldn’t figure out what was causing this persistent light to shine across the lands.

Looking ahead, he saw large pools of water stretch across the terrain, their shores dusted with some type of dry, yellow crust. Around the pools, he could make out the shapes of different foliage, their large leaves various shades of dark green and viridian. Long blades of grass whipped about in the winds, their tendrils twisting around the surrounding décor. The trees in this environment seemed thin and wiry as they swayed near the waters, curious round shapes resting at the base of the leaves. Yet what interested Strive the most was the towering forms in the distance, their sharp, angular shapes shining against the intense light. He couldn’t tell if these crystals were blue or if they simply reflected the odd sky above. 

The vibrant atmosphere of this planet implied that life was capable of living here. If not the evident foliage, then the crystal clear waters were a hopeful sign. This eased some of Strive’s initial fears about finding a sustainable planet; it would seem his vessel consciously brought him somewhere that would keep him alive. For now at least. That was enough to keep his spirits afloat.

Strive looked around the hull of the ship, trying to locate some sort of escape hatch for him to exit from. The inside seemed perfectly solid, no sign of any entrance or exit in the immediate vicinity. Then it clicked—perhaps he was meant to get out the same way he came in. Looking down at his palm, he recalled the strange feeling of the ship's black blossoms, their collective strength having pulled him into the mysterious creature. Although the ship was no longer an intimidating black shard, maybe it still functioned the same way before its transformation. Locating the spot where he initially entered from, he took a deep breath and gently placed his palm to the wall, preparing himself for the possibility of a sudden pull.

His intuition was pretty spot on. Instead of black blossoms, delicate white blooms danced across his arm, pulling him forwards without too much force. Instead of yanking him harshly, the white petals encouraged him to walk out on his own, their blooms materializing to his feet once he made it to the outside of the ship. While it wasn’t that large of a drop, he still appreciated the extra step in his descent. Once his feet were firmly on the grassy ground, the gentle white buds crawled back up his figure, depositing themselves into the smooth ship. Strive whispered his thanks to the small buds, practically breathless as he watched them work their strange magic.

Standing in front of his vessel, he trailed his eyes over its entire form. Such a pure shape, void of any sharp edges or intimidating weapons. He felt safe looking at this vessel, a sense of ease resting in his core whenever he let his misty eyes rest on it. As he stood within the shade of his ship, he was overcome by the need to touch his vessel. To see if it was actually real and not some sort of illusion. Unsure if it reacted the same with each touch, Strive kept his body tense in case the vessel decided to pull him back in. Just a simple touch was all his needed. A sense of validation.

With a gentle hand, he let his palm rest on the outer shell of the vessel, petting its form as if to give it comfort. Such a kind ship deserved an equal amount of kindness. After all they had been through in their short time together, he felt the ship deserved a much needed rest. Though admittedly, its definition of ‘rest’ definitely startled the young traveller.

The vessel erupted in a blinding flash of light, its solid form reduced to a wispy curl as it shrunk in size, the ball of energy heading directly for Strive’s glimmering core. He gasped when the vessel charged its way into his chest, the current of energy disappearing without a shred of resistance. It all happened so fast. The boy stood dumbfounded at the empty space before him, numbly feeling his centre as he tried to process the event. 

His ship had just jumped into his core; that was probably the most bizarre thing he had witnessed during his time away from home. Everything else was crazy, but that was just . . . odd. 

Alone in an empty field, Strive felt the need to squint more often than he usually did. Hands covering his forehead, he attempted to recover his vision through what minimal shade he could offer. They hardly did anything against the dominating force in the sky, the glare bordering on painful with how intense it was getting. Looking around the blue, he tried to find the reason for this irritating light.

What a mistake that was. 

Unbeknownst to him, his eyes made contact with the excruciating strength of a dangerous ball of gas, the powerful sphere sending spots of blindness through his sensitive vision. He shut his eyes quickly, the foreign object something he had never experienced before. He hissed through the pain, tears streaming down his face as he tried to blink away the irritation that sabotaged his sight.

He wasn't made for this world.

Moebius was a planet cast into darkness, the stars their only light source for countless millennia. The moon was always present, though it hardly served a purpose now. When the stars disappeared, so did the light. Yet his people made do, producing artificial light in their place. Nowhere near as strong, the artificial stand in was just enough to keep them functioning. Never had they encountered the full strength of a single, burning sphere. 

Strive cursed to himself when his vision began to fail, the violent light preventing him from surveying his surroundings. While in the shade of his ship, he was able to take in an acceptable amount of this new light source. With his ship retracted into his core, he had accidentally looked at the blazing sphere in full force, unintentionally blinding himself to the world around him. Strive flung his arms wildly in an attempt to regain his scattered bearings.

He felt like a fool; he should have been more careful! In an unknown environment, anything could prove to be a threat. He never imagined a blinding ball of sky light would be one of them! 

As he struggled to blink back the pain, his ears perked upwards when a loud rumble reverberated through the air. He held his breath, relying on his hearing to determine the nature of the noise. He heard one, then another. His core sank when he heard four consecutive rumbles, the frightening drumming of one ship filling the terrain’s serene air. Though he couldn’t see, he could definitely feel the tremors that shook the earth upon impact, the four ships resting on the ground near by. 

Strive shrunk into the grass around him, his body giving way to the shivering tremors of indescribable fear. They were here. They had managed to follow him beyond the tunnel. Here he was; ship-less, blind, and cowering in what he could only hope was some sort of covering.

Why did the cosmos find joy in tormenting him so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have read so far! I plan to make this quite the long story; we've most likely not even scratched the surface yet! Hope you enjoy the ride as I enjoy writing it :)


	6. Under the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite knowing what the strange group is saying, that doesn't mean Strive is any closer to understanding what they're talking about. If anything, he's way more confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/09/12) This amazing image was done by the incredibly skilled [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/64393429#workskin) **

With nowhere to run, Strive was forced to hide low in the lengthy stems of the grass, his shoulders tense as he crouched far into the ground. He kept his breathing shallow, fearful of making any noise that may alert the hunters of his position. He had no idea how far away they were or if he was properly hidden; everything was a splotchy blur against his burning vision. He tried to peek at his surroundings only to shut his eyes in discomfort, the new forms around him blending into one cohesive blob. For now, he was stuck relying on his hearing to judge what was going on around him. 

He stayed silent, listening to the confusing jumble of speech that flowed through the air. Without the static interference from before, he could hear their voices clearly. He recognized the one who appeared on his screen, their tone full of questions and barking demands. They all seemed to be talking to each other, the low gravely one practically snarling with each sentence. The remaining two hunters didn’t utter a single word, the bizarre code having disappeared once they landed. Thankfully, the dreaded drumming had stopped as well, replaced by strange mechanical whirls.

Strive had yet to decide if that was a good or bad thing.

As they continued in their unfamiliar dialects, he wondered how they all understood each other. Perhaps they were all fluent in each other’s native language? But why wouldn’t they settle on a single form of communication? Wouldn’t that be easier on all of them? So many questions poked and prodded the boy’s brain, practically heckling him and his blatant naivety. There was still so much he didn’t understand about the world beyond his own.

Foreign species, hostile ships, violently bright planets, vessels retracting into their pilot’s bodies—it was all so strange. He wondered if the hunters also absorbed their ships when they landed? Based on the weighty impact those ships made, he could imagine that they were still present on the ground; he didn’t need his eyesight to figure that out. What he lacked in vision he made up for in delicate hearing, his feathered ears twitching with each new sound he listened for.

He could hear the hunters talking, presumably arguing at this point. The ones who were capable of speech were throwing words at one another, a harsh mixture of grunts, snarls, and frustrated sighs. Whatever they were talking about, it must have been very important. The haughtier voice let their words rise to a sarcastic lift, their speech having affected the deeper one’s attitude. Strive huddled into a small mound when angry tremors shook the ground he was pressed against, numerous irate growls vibrating through the air—apparently they were throwing insults at each other now. The beastie stomped their heavy feet against the earth, making a scene that he couldn’t even observe. How scary.

Throughout their dialogue, Strive briefly considered making a getaway. Perhaps he could call out his ship and flee the scene. However, there were a few problems with this hasty plan—Firstly, he had no idea how to coax his ship out, the strange vessel having dissolved itself deep into his core. Would it willingly come out if he summoned it? Even if he did manage to bring it out, he couldn’t see right now, let alone pilot an entire ship! He would most likely crash before he made it through this planet’s stratosphere.

Secondly, how was he meant to escape this persistent bunch? Even when he managed to replicate the colour tunnel from before, they had somehow tracked him regardless! Was the wormhole actually common knowledge among those who traversed the cosmos? It was a little disheartening, really. Here he was thinking he was so sneaky only to find out his little trick was useless in his time of need. What was it anyway? A speed boost, teleportation, a simple light show? There were so many things he still wanted to learn! 

Strive’s frantic thoughts came to a halt as he listened dutifully to the shifting footsteps, trying to imagine what their direction would be. Relief slowly filled his core when the dirt beneath their feet crunched in the opposite direction, the group beginning to search away from where he was hiding. If they got far enough, he could probably slip away before any of them caught on to his location. Granted, he couldn’t see right now, but surely taking it slow would yield some good results. If he was lucky, maybe he could find a patch of shade to recover in. Hopefully that would do something for his strained vision. He would much prefer having his eyes in good condition before he left this planet. 

Remaining still, the boy patiently listened to the figures as they slowly walked around their surroundings, a few unintelligible mumbles rumbling from the beastie as it followed suit. They were nearly at a distance Strive considered safe, a few more minutes yielding promise for a successful escape. He would soon be free.

Suddenly, the earth shook from a stomping frenzy. Strive's ears perked in surprise, the impact much too soft to be the beastie’s yet out of character for the vocal one. Again, another stomp hit the ground, the footprints rattling the dirt in quick concession. It didn’t sound like walking; it was almost like one of the figures was dancing in place. Whatever they were doing, it caught the attention of the vocal one, their words raised in an upwards inflection as they shuffled to the mobile one’s side. Various voices, grumbles and mechanical clicks harmonized in conversation once they were grouped back together, their stances close and tense. 

To Strive’s horror, they began walking towards his hiding spot.

Stifling a shrill gasp, he gave a silent plea for their direction to change. He huddled closer to the ground, attempting to wiggle himself deeper into the thick blades of grass. Unfortunately for him, he lacked the appropriate attire to support any convincing camouflage. If anything, he probably stood out like an obnoxious, blue eyesore. Speaking of eyesores—his eyes burned wickedly as terrified tears streamed down his face, the water managing to escape his tightly shut vision. Even though he knew they were coming for him, he refused to utter a single sob. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry. 

As they neared his cowering form, a cautious hush fell over the hunters, their tones noticeably softer as they closed the distance between themselves and his pitiful hiding spot. He could hear their footsteps clearly now, surprised to sense hesitation in their earthy gait. The group stood inches away from where he was huddled, their delayed actions adding more stress to the boy's growing anxieties. What was the point in prolonging his demise? Were they just mocking him by this point?

Strive jumped when the vocal one spoke, their words slow and calm while they addressed him in his grassy fort. Covering his body as best he could, Strive shook his head wretchedly. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it quickly. You obviously plan on finishing what you started from before.” Hearing this, the beastie let out a huff of air, a light grumble escaping through its throat. The snarling creature released a low chuckle, clicking its tongue against its teeth as it initiated conversations with the vocal one. They quickly snapped at the beastie, a tone of disappointment evident in the unknown language. While this interaction was a little odd, it did nothing to sooth the boy's despair. “Just get it over with. . . .”

He could hear the shifting of someone’s clothes as they approached him, a hand gently grasping his hunched shoulder. Strive yelped loudly, jumping back into the blades of grass for protection. In his shock, he mistakenly opened his eyes once again. The sharp pain bombarded him instantly, prompting him to shut them before any more damage was done. In his fright, he momentarily caught sight of his attackers; the cone headed one was crouching to the ground, their head tilted to the side in evident concern. Strive could hardly make out the shapes that stood behind it, their large forms blurred by his damaged vision. Fear rose to his core when another hand tried to grab hold of him, his instincts screaming at him to run away. 

The vocal one spoke to its companions, encouraging them to get a hold of Strive while he fought their grip. The boy struggled blindly as more hands held him in place, their strength overwhelming him greatly. When one of the figures forcefully grabbed his injured arm, he let out a shrill wail of pain; the pressure was immediately lifted once the figure let go, swiftly responding to his obvious distress. Taking this moment of freedom, Strive flung his arm wildly through the air, hoping he could somehow escape from their clutches. Amidst the grunts, screams and disorderly struggle, the vocal one spoke above the chaos, hissing out directions for their friends to follow. 

The boy felt himself being wrapped up in some sort of metal appendages, the arms holding him upwards as he was coaxed into a sitting position. He could feel another pair of large—unusually fuzzy—hands keep his head angled to one position, the probability of his neck being snapped looking a lot more plausible as time went on; if he moved even a little bit, he could feel the light indent of claws against his skin. He could barely move, his legs contained by yet another set of hands, their gloved grip gentle, yet unmistakably firm while they kept him in one place. Bound by the ghastly group, Strive grimaced when the remaining hunter spoke, their words sickly sweet as he felt them hover near his face. 

_So this is how I die? Ripped to shreds by a quartet of cosmic carnivores . . ._

Strive froze when the figure attempted to place something cold and metallic into his ear, the being offering gentle shushes whenever the boy shook his head frantically. Unsure of what this figure was planning, he refused their interference, twitching his head against the restraints that held him back. He could hear an exasperated sigh coming from the figure, followed by a throaty laugh from the fuzzy hands that held his head. The two exchanged words, an uncomfortable pressure beginning to build as the strong hands kept him firmly in place. Strive winced when the figure managed to put the object in his sensitive ears, a strange frequency emitting from the small device. His feathered ears twitched in discomfort when the whine began to fluctuate sporadically, unknown pitches invading his hearing without remorse. He could hardly make out the noise the figures were projecting around him, having been much too focused on the dizzying shriek to notice their changing elements. 

“. . . —an he hear us now? Hello? Do you und . . . —id? Kid? Do you fol—?”

Upon recognizing his native tongue, Strive immediately stopped struggling, much to the relief of those holding him down. He listened carefully as the cone headed creature began to make sense, their words no longer a confusing mix of unknown syllables and curious tones. His core flashed rapidly as he listened further, trying his best to bite back his fears while he pieced together what the figure was trying to say.

“. . . kid, do you understand me? I need to know, so just raise your hand or something.” Strive tried to raise his arm, only to realize that he was still being held down. He furrowed his eyebrows in disapproval, his eyes still managing to appear fed up despite being closed. The voice chuckled in embarrassment. “Er, I guess that was a dumb way of asking. Just, ah, nod your head or something.”

A different voice sounded behind him, presumably belonging to the one who held Strive's neck. The ghastly snarls from before were replaced with a gruff manner of speaking, the vibrations low and rich with a deep bass’ rumble. “Sung, ya dipshit. The kid can’t even move a muscle right now.”

“Right you are! Sorry, couldn’t think of any other way to get you to communicate with us. Speech must have slipped my mind.”

“Please, there’s never a day where ya won’t shut yer insufferable trap!” Strive flinched beneath the new voice. “Tell us straight, kid—ya understand us now, yeah?”

“Yes . . . I-I can understand you.” 

The figure let out a shrill hiss, releasing his grip on Strive’s neck. “Alright, men. Let the kid go.” 

One by one, Strive felt his restraints being lifted as the group took their hands off him. Allowed to sit for himself, he blindly palmed for his injured arm, a dull ache having been introduced when one of them grabbed it during the struggle. When the group shuffled into standing positions, he could hear the sound of limbs moving in a dramatic fashion, the culprit most likely being the same one who revealed his hiding spot through various stomps. 

The cone head—Sung was his name?—spoke for them. “Oh, Phobos wants to apologize for grabbing your injury. He hopes he didn’t hurt you too much.” While Strive couldn’t see this ‘Phobos’ character, he offered a quick confirmation that he was fine, quite thankful that he let go of his arm during the struggle; that was kind of nice of him. “How did you manage that, anyhow? There aren’t even any dangerous materials on this planet.”

Strive scoffed at his oblivious front. "Don't you mean the charred skin and terrible wound that _you_ gave me? I know you're in cahoots with the green ship! I could hear its drumming coming from the screen in my vessel!” 

The figure seemed taken aback when he spoke. “Those injuries are from Havve? But that’s not possible. He only managed to graze your ship before I stopped him from damaging it further. His programming must have mistaken your ship as something else. . . .” Whatever Strive was mistaken for, he didn’t care about in the slightest. The main thing that bugged him was that he was attacked without a single thought! “What were you even doing in the Graveyard anyways? It’s common knowledge that you’re supposed to stay away from there. You could have gotten yourself killed if you weren’t careful!” 

“No thanks to you and your friends! If anything, you would’ve all killed me before I even left that debris field! You tried to box me in and cripple my wings!” Strive held onto his sore arm, pressing lightly in order to adjust to a comfortable pressure. “You can’t possibly justify that!”

Before the pointed being had time to speak, a growl from behind interjected with a curious tone. “Kid, where are y'even from? Our sensors didn’t recognize yer ship and ya didn’t even have a Lexicomm on ya. Either yer’e incredibly stupid or not from around these parts.”

Lexicomm? What was he talking about? 

Seeing the confusion on Strive’s face, the voice huffed in annoyance. “The thing we just put in yer ear. If ya were wearin' one in the first place, we wouldn’t have had to wrestle ya to the ground like a wild animal. Ya realize I could have accidentally snapped yer little neck in half, right?” Their words sounded frightfully honest, causing the boy to pale when his imagination filled in the gruesome visuals. If not snapping his neck, then the sharp claws he had felt would certainly finish him off in no time.

“Meouch, that’s no way to talk to the kid. He’s obviously frightened right now. Stop with the scare tactics.”

Meouch scoffed, huffing out a great gust of wind; Strive swore he heard something swish between the blades of grass in reaction to his irritation. “C’mon, Sung. Only an idiot would travel the skies without the basics. Either that or this kid's an absolute lunatic.” 

Strive could hear the one named Sung crouch closer to him, offering a warm set of words. “Ignore him. Listen, I won’t bombard you with endless questions right now, nor will I answer all of them at once. How about we focus on your injuries first, hm? There will be time for formal introductions once you’re all patched up.” 

He thought his options through. These hunters actually seemed rather pleasant, besides the one who had deliberately attacked him and his vessel. Havve, was it? It irked him that the being hadn’t even managed an apology towards him. At least the one called Phobos apologized, even if he didn’t say it verbally. 

Upon nearing the boy, Sung stifled a gasp, his bewilderment washing over the injured traveller like a tidal wave. “I recognize your attire now. Those ears, cloudy hair . . . What’s a Moebian like you doing so far out in the cosmos?” Strive was surprised by Sung’s observation, more so that he knew about his species just by a single glance.

This got his full attention. “You know about my home?”

Sung deflected his question as if he had never heard it. He occupied himself with other affairs, speaking in low tones to an unseen figure by his side—a troubled aura washed over the clearing. The figure clicked in conformation, the sound of mechanical wiring filling the air as it took a step forward. Strive’s stomach dropped.

“Don’t freak out, alright? We’re just going to take you to our ships, have a sit down to get to know each other, and figure out the entire story of how you ended up here. You can either walk with us or be carried. Choose whatever makes you comfortable, kid”

Strive gulped, unease creeping into his core. “Why should I trust you? I can’t see, but I can definitely tell the green pilot is there. I can still hear his drumming. . . .”

“You can’t see? What do you . . . ?” Sung sounded very concerned now, his presence edging closer to Strive's rigid form. The boy felt something lightly graze his eyelid, causing him to stiffen and flinch away in fear. “Easy, kid! I just want to make sure you’re okay. What do you mean by not being able to see? Did you get something in your eyes?”

“No, I—” Strive tried his best to explain what had happened, not knowing how to describe it himself. His voice shook slightly, still recovering from the unease he felt around these strangers. “I don’t know. Everything was so bright when I left my vessel. There was this vibrant spot in the sky . . .” Even thinking about it made his eyes water in discomfort. He wiped them slowly, an uncomfortable sting accompanying the dewy mess of his vision. “And suddenly I couldn’t see! It was the most intense thing I’ve ever witnessed!”

Sung remained quiet throughout his explanation. He let out a small gasp of realization once his thoughts were sorted. “That’s right! You’re a Moebian! How stupid of me, I forgot about your kind’s sensitivity to the sun . . . We definitely need to get you to the ship. I’ll get Havve to carry you there.”

“I’m not going anywhere with the green pilot! I can hardly stomach that insidious drumming!”

Off to the side, Meouch scoffed in amusement. “This one’s got sharp ears. Could come in handy if the need arises.” He placed a hand on Strive’s shoulder, the random action causing him to yelp in shock. “C’mon, kid. Sung will patch ya up. He’s got all sorts of things to help ya recover in no time.” 

Strive shook off the large hand, gritting his teeth in defiance. “I can walk there myself! I don’t need any of you taking me hostage!” 

“Ha! This kid’s got some bark to him! Lovin' that warrior vibe yer givin' off, kid.” 

“My name isn’t ‘kid’! It’s Strive!”

Chuckling, Meouch let his words roll off in an amused purr. “Alright then, _Strive._ Sorry about this, but yer’e comin' with us.” 

Strive’s ears twitched when a loud snap sounded beside him, the sudden pressure of cold, metallic restrains finding their way around his torso. He let out a guttural scream, trying to fight off the unseen force around him. He twisted and writhed beneath his bonds, his movements inadvertently causing more pain to radiate from his wound. He groaned pitifully, grimacing while the fiery pain swept across his arm. Despite the agony he was inflicting on himself, he continued his fight for control, seriously considering using his teeth if the option presented itself. 

As he was carried against his will, he could hear Sung’s concerned tone in front of the group. “It’s alright kid— _Strive_." The name danced across the man's tongue in a peculiar way. "We’re not going to hurt you. We’re only trying to help you.”

“And why should I believe you? You’ve caused more harm than help by this point!” 

“Havve didn’t mean to injure you. He was just following the protocols that were imputed to his systems! He was assigned to take down any unknown ships within the Graveyard. Unfortunately, none of our sensors recognized your vessel as an actual ship. Where was that thing manufactured, anyhow? I didn’t think Moebius had the capabilities for that.”

“No one made it. I just . . . found it.”

“Found it, did ya?” Meouch’s rough words reverberated beside him. His tone held an element of skepticism. “Beings don’t just ‘find ships’. Y’either have ‘em made specifically for one pilot or they’re altered when they get stolen. Regardless, there’s always some sort of registration that allows other pilots to recognize it as a proper ship; I’m more curious as to why yers didn’t have one.” 

Strive huffed in frustration at his accusatory tone. “That’s not my fault! I’ve only just discovered how to fly it. How was I supposed to know the rules up here?”

“How could ya not? It’s basic knowledge, kid!”

Seething with rage, Strive struggled more within his restraints, refusing to engage with the beastie any longer. He was angry at that smug voice for talking down to him, treating him like a first-class idiot. Ships, registration, recognition; it all meant nothing to him! He had only been among the cosmos for a few hours. He didn’t need some haughty rouge belittling him. 

Amidst his feverish movements, Strive felt a light hand on his shoulder, offering small pats of reassurance. He knew it wasn’t the beastie, nor Sung in the front. Judging by their careful consideration of placement and pressure, he decided that the culprit must have been Phobos. Although he had never seen the figure in question, there was no denying the tranquil aura that radiated from the quiet being.

Admittedly, he felt a little better under his calm presence.

The group eventually came to a collective stop. “Alright," said Sung, "I need you to wait here for a bit. I’m going to grab a few things to make you more comfortable.” The man's footsteps began to fade as he raced towards the unknown. Strive listened carefully to Sung’s dusty prints and the echoed clang that replaced them, his feet colliding with a strong, metallic material; he must have gotten onto his ship. 

Since he was still unable to see, time stretched to excruciating lengths as Strive blindly wondered when Sung would return. Meouch must have taken the hint that he didn’t want to talk to him anymore, the gruff being opting to shift his feet through the dirt while they waited. The other two had kept quiet in general. Perhaps they were just the silent types? The only noise Havve was making was a combination of whirrs, ticks and a terrifying drumming, its rhythm never skipping a beat. His metallic limbs and mechanical sounds made Strive question its livelihood; he seemed vastly different from his living companions.

Finally, Sung emerged from whatever vessel he had disappeared into. The man could be heard taking a few jovial steps towards the group, something long and heavy dragging across the ground during his walk. “Okay! I’ve gotten everything we need for now. How are you doing, kid?”

“Besides being held against my will by a stuttering mass, rather well, thanks.” Inwardly, Strive cringed at his rude tone. Fear could make him such a smart aleck when he least expected it. 

“Ah, right. Havve, let him go. I think he’s had enough of you by this point.” By command, Havve immediately released his grip on Strive, trudging over to the man who called him. Now that his arms were free, he rubbed the areas where the cold metal dug into his skin, thankful to finally move on his own. “Good. Now then, is it alright for me to put this blanket over your head for a second?”

“You . . . _what?”_ What was this man even talking about?

“A blanket! I need to block out the sun for a bit so you can open your eyes. I’ll be giving you these UV correction lenses, but you’ll have to open your eyes for them to go in.” Sung shuffled forwards, ruffling the blanket and flicking the noisy fabric above their heads. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you through the basics.” 

Behind his closed eyes, Strive could tell the world was significantly darker once the blanket furled itself over the two beings. The fabric was very heavy, the material dense and hot as minimal airflow found its way through the open spaces. It felt claustrophobic, but refreshing at the same time; he dared to open his eyes. The blanket blocked out most of the harsh light from the outside, filtering the harmful rays into more manageable patches for his comfort. 

Through his blurred vision, he could finally make out Sung’s strange figure, the man having crouched under the fabric as well. His ridiculously long headpiece raised the blanket high above, creating a space for the two of them to interact in. “Hey! Nice to see you with your eyes open for once! How are they feeling?”

Now that he could see the genuine smile that graced Sung’s lips, Strive’s doubts were subdued for the moment, relying on visual cues to help him slip into a comfortable state of mind. “They’re still sore, but I can kind of make out your form. You’re still a little blurry, though.”

“Good! I was worried that you’d be blind already. Your people aren’t built for direct sunlight. This kind of light is way too intense for your species to withstand. That’s why we have correctors for these situations!” Sung reached into a pocket that rested on his side, sifting through the contents before he pulled out a small box. “All you have to do is line these up with your retinas. Just pull your eyelid down, look up, and the contacts should do the rest.”

Strive took the small box in his hands, popping it open to observe its contents. Two small disks sat peacefully in its packaging, the circular objects clear and transparent. He had never seen anything like it before. He was meant to put these in his eyes? He grimaced, looking up at Sung with a sheepish grin. The man gave a small laugh, encouraging him to try them out. With a hesitant hand, he took one of the contacts in his fingers, gingerly putting it against his open eye. He blinked feverishly when the foreign object connected, their weight soon forgotten once he positioned it just right. With a supportive thumbs-up from Sung, he repeated the action with his other eye, feeling a lot more confident the second time through.

Blinking rapidly, Strive slowly adjusted to the odd sensation he felt against his eyes. The tiny amounts of light that filtered through the blanket lacked their previous intensity, the rays having been subdued to an agreeable level. He looked around the blanket, his vision having recovered its sharpness. 

Now that he could see, he looked over at Sung, a feeling of guilt washing over him when he thought back to his rudeness from before. A regretful blush rose to his face. 

“Thank you." he murmured. "I’m sorry about what I said to you. I guess you were just trying to help me after all.”

Sung let out a quick laugh, running his finger underneath his nose and brushing his moustache in embarrassment. “Aw shucks, think nothing of it! You had a lot of reasons to be weary of us. I’m just glad I could get your vision back.” He tugged at the dark blanket. “We should really patch up your arm now. Hopefully being able to see will make you a lot more comfortable around us.”

Strive nodded, feeling a lump in his throat when he thought about finally finding out the other members’ identities. He had no idea what they looked like, save for the brief silhouette he caught of Meouch during their chase through the cosmos. Through multiple auditory cues, he had built up a simple impression of the crew. However, his ears could not account for the true forms they all took on. 

Sung pulled the blanket back, bombarding Strive with the sudden force of powerful sunlight. While greatly subdued by the UV contacts, he still had to squint before he could fully adjust to the corrected landscape. Through continuous blinking, the land slowly became a recognized form, the obnoxiously bright skies controlled behind a sheet of foreign technology. It was the strangest thing. The terrain wasn’t noticeably darker or anything; it had simply become bearable to his delicate eyes. Free of the unpleasant strain, he was eager to take in this new land, but not before coming into contact with the rest of the quartet. With a slight hesitance, he trained his eyes on the remaining group members:

Meouch was a large, lumbering figure that possessed features the boy could only assume belonged to a type of beastie. Sharp, hazardous fangs flashed from beneath his fuzzy muzzle, his triangular nose raised high with pride. Catching a glimpse of his black claws made Strive shiver; the haughty feline grinned at the desired reaction. Meouch’s yellow eyes followed Strive as he continued looking over his form, his rounded ears alert to the slightest noise. He was drenched in a vibrant blue—much like himself!—his impressive mane contained within his head gear and clasped behind his dark, collared shirt, a large portion of his fuzzy chest exposed to the surrounding elements. A thin tail swished from his behind, ruffling his baggy grey pants. The boy briefly wondered what purpose the ragged, blue sash around his waist held, the worn fabric appearing to be nothing more than a gaudy fashion choice. 

Observing the other members, Strive was taken aback by Phobos’ appearance. Since he was incredibly silent, the boy wasn’t able to create an impression of the man, his figure a mystery until this very moment. His head was completely obscured by a red and gold helmet, two blunt fins protruding from either side of the helmet; a singular fin rested undisturbed atop his head. Two separate tubes connected themselves from the mouth of the helmet to his back, seeming to reside in some sort of jetpack. His body was covered from head to toe in form fitting gear, a red vest clipped to his chest as it supported the pack in the rear. His gloves fit snugly over his hands, the same being said for his light grey boots. 

When Phobos noticed the young traveller looking at him, he clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his body to the side. He offered a quick wave, the action well received when Strive waved back with a timid smile. 

Finally, it was time for him to look at his attacker. Although Sung assured him that he honestly didn’t mean to injure him, it was hard for Strive to think of this figure as anything other than a violent presence. 

True to his intuition, Havve appeared to be different from the rest; a mechanical nightmare. Towering above the group, the hexapoddle creature possessed six separate arms! He stood still while the boy looked him over, his gleaming red orbs sending chills down his spine. His protruding shoulder blades reflected the harsh glare of the sun, the concentrated light irritating Strive’s vision despite the corrective lenses he was wearing. Havve’s blank expression was further antagonized by his intense under bite, the metallic material jutting outward to expose his rigid jawline. In contrast to this, his body was curiously round, his arms housed upon his sturdy centre. There appeared to be grooves on the circumference of the robot’s body, most likely for the purpose of better mobility for his many appendages. With such thin legs, it was a mystery as to how he supported his immense weight on top. 

Havve’s intense gaze bore into Strive, the machine remaining silent as a persistent drumming echoed through his interior. The monster's scarlet eyes lingered on the boy's form; his vitals were like a thunderous symphony. Judging by the reactions of the others around him, either they couldn’t hear it or they had simply blocked it out a long time ago. Whatever the answer may be, it still made him extremely uncomfortable. 

Sung’s voice brought him back to reality. “Glad you’ve had the chance to see everyone for once! Now then, let’s do something about that nasty burn.”


	7. Full of Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strive's injuries are finally patched up, leading to a series of confusing questions without many answers. Even more frustrating is being called a liar—perfectly honest words eyed with suspicion. Are you full of shit or an actual ship? These are the questions the crew needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/09/20) Image by the brilliant [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/64759465#workskin) **

Strive sat still as Sung began working on his arm, the man having taken out some sort of first-aid kit from his ship. With careful precision, the doctor used his steady hands to press a medicine-soaked cotton ball into his burnt skin, the contents stinging painfully once they made contact with the raw abrasion. He worked slowly, using tweezers to maneuver the medicine all over the irritated wound. Strive grimaced, letting out a shrill hiss in an attempt to block out the intense discomfort. The disinfectant was a pain worse than the initial burn! 

Sung noticed his agony, offering him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, kid. I’m almost done here. Just need to do a few more things before you’re in the clear.”

He pulled his tweezers back, dropping the polluted cotton ball to the ground and reaching for a new one from his kit. He dipped it into a different liquid, one that was much more viscous than the last substance. The green, gel-like substance was spread across the wound, a welcomed relief that cooled the boy's skin immediately. No longer holding his breath, Strive allowed himself to breathe easily once the pain was masked by the gel, thankful to finally focus on things other than his discomfort. Looking around, he trailed his eyes over the strange crew surrounding him, each figure seeming off in their own little worlds. 

Arranged in a circle, the crew sat idly beneath their ships while they waited for Sung to finish his task. They seemed to know better than to disturb their leader while he worked, keeping a generous distance from the worrying doctor. Meouch was reclined on his side, a large paw cradling his head as he watched Strive with intense, yellow slits. His tail thumped against the ground, flicking between the tall blades of grass that he lounged in. When Strive caught his eye, the ferocious feline turned his nose up, bearing his fangs before looking to the side in an attempt to seem uninterested. Even when he turned his head the other way, Strive swore he felt a piercing scowl across his back.

The metal creature known as Havve sat eerily still, his eyes having lost their previous glare; perhaps he was asleep? The robot was hunched over in a neutral position, all six of his arms resting peacefully in his lap. While he wasn’t plagued with the haunting whirrs from before, Strive felt himself listening closely for that creepy drumming. It was there, just greatly subdued for the moment.

Then came Phobos, the curious rocketeer sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground. He appeared to be relaxing, his shoulders lowered and his back perfectly straight while his hands rested delicately on the edge of his knees. Although silent, Strive could see him taking deep, concentrated breaths throughout his trance-like state. Obscured by a dark visor, Strive has no way of knowing if he was watching him. Judging by his tranquil posture, he decided he was most likely enjoying himself and the nature surrounding them. 

“So, what do you think? Of them, I mean.” Sung had long since finished his gel treatment, humming joyously while he rustled through his kit for some sort of wrapping. The tune was upbeat, foreign to anything Strive had ever heard. The doctor continued his musical purr, pulling out a roll of white bandages and observing them intently. From the corner of his eye, Strive could see Meouch grimace in annoyance at the man’s persistent humming. 

“They’re alright, I guess. Phobos seems to be pleasant around me, but I don’t think Meouch likes me very much.” He heard a faint huff come from the beastie in the distance. 

“Ha! Ignore that cat bastard. He’s always a little abrasive when it comes to strangers; he’s cautious is all. Given the circumstances, I think he has a right to be.”

Strive huffed in retort, his voice raised incredulously. “I’ve done nothing wrong! I should be the one not trusting you guys. At least I didn’t attack you out of the blue!”

Sung chuckled guiltily. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. I’m still really sorry about that. I told you Havve didn’t mean it. Poor guy was only following his programming protocol.” The doctor tore the bandage in half, beginning to coil the covering around Strive’s arm. “I had him go after anything that didn’t have a registration. He’s quite efficient in destroying things that cross his path, so he was perfect for the job. It’s unfortunate that you got caught in his attacks.”

“What do you mean he was programmed to do it?”

“Well, you can probably already tell that Havve’s not really one to fit into the ‘natural’ category. I’d like to think of him as mechanically inclined; robotic in most ways.” Sung tightened the bandage around Strive’s wound, checking it over to make sure it was stable and snug. “He and I have been together for countless years, travelling the cosmos to our heart’s desires. It wasn’t always like that though; I was the one that found him a few dimensions back.” It was hard to follow Sung’s language, but the boy did his best to understand.

“He’s something of an impossible wonder. Such a high-tech monster like him was left to rot in the Mesozoic period! I still have no idea where he came from or who designed him. Certainly not those rampaging lizards. I’d expect that kind of tech billions of years in their future, not present in a dingy cave! But that’s beside the point; I was intrigued. It took countless attempts to resurrect the big guy and I nearly exhausted all my resources trying to do it. Thankfully, I found the solution hidden away in my old junk drawer. 

"Hard to believe, but wouldn’t you know that this robotic mess was powered by rhythm! Of all the advanced power sources I shoved down his throat, a dinky 808 composer was just what the doctor had ordered. Somehow his circuits were kept alive through a continuous drumming, much like a heart would pump blood through someone’s veins. Looking at the way he was designed, I think he did have organs at some point but they must have withered away when he got stuck in the cave. Makes me shudder when I think about how long he was rotting in that cavern . . .” 

Half of what Sung said left Strive grasping for some form of comprehension, his story hardly having any familiarity surrounding it. More terms to learn for the future. “So, he’s not really alive then?”

“Hm, hard to say. The guy shows no visible emotions, especially when he goes on his killing rampages—” Strive paled at those words. “I think he lacks empathy, essentially leaving him as an empty shell of his former self. Whatever that may have been. He mostly functions on inputs, programs and commands that I direct him with. It’s uncommon to see him act on his own free will, but it does happen more than you think.” 

Havve was an emotionless monster. Good to know. “Does he only listen to you?” 

“Pretty much. He does listen to the others when they give him commands, but I can tell he gets a little pissy; another reason why I think he’s still got some humanity left in him. The guy will do what’s asked of him, but do it slightly off. Not enough to jeopardize the task, but just enough to annoy the one who directed him. I think it’s hilarious! He’ll tell me afterwards and I swear he’s got a grin to his voice.”

“Voice? He can talk?” Maybe the rest of the crew wasn’t mute after all. 

“Twenty questions time—loving that curiosity, kid! Yes, he does have a voice, but only with me. Now before you get confused, let me explain. He and I share a telepathic bond, one that lets us communicate without needing words. Of course, I still talk to him verbally even if it's a one way type of deal.”

“A telepathic— _what?_ ” Strive was baffled by this story, trying his best to understand even a lick of what the doctor was going on about. Out of all the group members, perhaps Sung was the most unhinged!

“Don’t give me that look! It’s true! Ever since I helped revive Havve, he’s only made an effort to talk to me that way. Maybe it has something to do with his circuits or maybe even an advanced implant in his motherboard; I’ve no clue. I never had the guts to disassemble him after working so hard to bring him to life. When I ask him about it, he says it’s best not to mention it again. Take my word, kid. You wouldn’t want to make an enemy of him.” Sung looked over at the slumped robot, waving his hand in a friendly manor. Havve’s eyes flashed with life, training his red orbs on Strive and the doctor. “We’re chill, right Havve?”

Havve remained silent, tilting his head to the side as he observed Sung’s waving hand. The robot raised one of his limbs, offering a mechanical wave in return. “Ha! You’re such a hoot! See, kid? He’s not going to harm you. The first encounter was all a big misunderstanding.” 

Although seeds of doubt were still budding within his chest, Strive made the effort to wave back, raising his free arm to greet the terrifying machine. Havve simply cocked his head, lowering his graspers and resuming his idle position from before, his eyes powering down while his head lulled to face the ground. Strive lowered his arm, feeling a little disheartened at the reaction—a little scared too.

Breaking the tension, Sung made a noise of confirmation, crossing his arms in satisfaction once Strive’s wound was fully covered. Looking down, he marvelled at the expert job Sung had done, his wound perfectly wrapped without a single material out of place. “That’s gotta feel much better, yeah?”

Strive flexed his arm, hardly any pain radiating from the area. “Yes, thanks.” He trailed his fingers over the thick covering, impressed by its solid execution. Perhaps Sung wasn’t as insane as he initially thought; he certainly knew his way around the medical field. 

“Don’t mention it. I'm always willing to help those in need. Though I’m still baffled as to how you got injured by Havve and his ship. He never actually hit _you_ physically, just your vessel’s wing. I don’t understand how you got burned in the first place.”

Strive thought back to their first encounter, recalling the searing pain that enveloped his arm when his vessel was hit. The heat from Havve’s engines had managed to graze his vessel’s surface, leaving a charred gash on the exterior. The pain had transferred to him as well, his arms struggling to pilot his vessel through their shared agony. Judging by Sung’s confusion, this must not be a usual occurrence in his unusual world. “When my vessel was hit, the same damage was given to me. It’s like I feel the same pain my vessel does.”

Leaning back, Sung let out a loud guffaw. “That’s ridiculous! I’ve never heard of a ship doing that! If that were the case, my crew and I would have been dead long ago. The amount of times our ships have been damaged is honestly hard to count.” A doubtful smile made its way across his lips. “Are you sure about that, kid? You also said that it just ‘appeared’ on your planet, right?”

Strive nodded, his ears burning in embarrassment when he realized how far fetched his story seemed. Perhaps less doubtful than Havve’s origin story, but still bizarre nonetheless. “It’s the truth! When I saw it crash down, I thought it might have been a star. . . .”

Sung’s interest was now peaked, the coned individual suddenly very interested in the boy's tale. “A star?” he stuttered. 

Resting his hands in his lap, Strive gave a solemn nod as he buried himself in his thoughts. “Yes. Ever since we lost our stars, I’ve always been hoping that they would come back to us. It was hard, but I never gave up hope. Unlike the rest of my village, I still thought there was a chance to bring them back—some way that _I_ could bring them back. The last one to try was never heard from again. They said she burned up in the stratosphere . . .” Strive looked to the side, balling his hands into tights fists. “I made a promise to end our eternal night, to bring back the stars that are rightfully ours! No one believed in my mother, but I’ll carry on the legacy. I owe it to her to bring back the stars she gifted me. I hold this oath close to my core!”

Out of view, Havve's eyes briefly flashed to life. The action went unnoticed, promoting the robot to lower his head undetected.

“I’m . . . sorry to hear about your mother, Strive. I—That must have been very hard for you.” Sung’s voice lost its usual radiance, replaced with a foreign sadness. He seemed momentarily at a loss for words. After an uneasy pause, he soon found his bearings. “Your cause is undoubtedly a noble one, one that you share with the rest of us.”

Strive’s ears twitched in response, quickly turning his head to look at the doctor with wide eyes. “You’re trying to bring them back too?!” 

A hollow laugh escaped Sung, the man looking towards the bright abyss above; his look nearly mirrored Strive’s own. “The Void; it’s taken so many of our precious stars. As that abomination moves forward, it leaves nothing but death and destruction in its wake. I’ve seen it, Strive. Thousands of planets dying off as their starlight is brutally ripped from their grasp. Thousands of lives taken much too soon. I can hardly stomach it. So much pain and loss . . . I only want the cosmos to feel joy once again—I want to save our starlight. That's my personal oath to the cause.” He brought his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his suit’s exterior pads. “We’ve all got our reasons for fighting. I think you’ll find that soon enough.”

It was amazing to see the different emotions that swirled through this mysterious being, an untouchable element lying deep beneath his complicated surface. Strive sighed loudly, bringing his attention to the vast blue skies. It was slowly hitting him. Lost in the outskirts of the cosmos, he had somehow managed to stumble across the only creatures that shared his same drive. Sure, their first meeting had been a little rocky, but as he slowly came to understand Sung, he felt less apprehensive of the group. They all seemed nice beneath their perceived flaws. Even Havve had some redeeming qualities to him, though his hinted ‘murder tendencies’ did leave the boy with a bad taste in his mouth.

After a few moments of silence, Sung broke the invisible barrier. “Say, where did you park your ship, kid? None of us saw it on our way in.” 

“Oh. It sort of flew into my core after I landed.” 

Sung said nothing else, keeping his head trained to the clear ether above. Then, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course it did! Kid, you’re killing me! I thought my life was strange, yet here you are taking the entire damn trophy case!”

“So yer’e tellin’ me that yer ship is somewhere in there?” 

Strive flinched when Meouch ruthlessly tapped at his sensitive core, the beastie grazing his sharp claws across the gem's smooth surface. The feline's intimidating presence made it hard for him to speak up against the event, his voice having failed him whenever the towering beastie continued observing his chest. 

“There’s no way yer ship is in this thing! I’m callin’ bullshit on that!” The feline narrowed his eyes, placing Strive’s core between his forefinger and thumb; his black claws dug into the crystal uncomfortably. Strive felt sickness wash over him when Meouch gave a small tug. 

Luckily, Sung came to the rescue. The man huffed angrily at the beastie’s carelessness, swatting his paws away as if he were chastising a pet. “Hey, be careful with that! You don’t just go around and sink your claws into a Moebian’s core; those things are connected to their life lines! Besides, can’t you see how uncomfortable you’re making him? Kid’s flashing up a storm.” 

The doctor was right, his observations spot on as Strive took a moment to calm his wavering core; he was impressed by the man's keen observations. Meouch’s grip had sent uneasy shivers down his spine, the creature's dangerous claws perfectly capable of crushing his core beneath his fuzzy paws. Seeing as none of the other members possessed gems of their own, Strive assumed that their cores were hidden somewhere else. In that case, it was perfectly acceptable for Meouch to have mistaken the situation, even if it was incredibly uncomfortable for him to endure.

“Bah, how was I supposed to know? I’ve never met a bein' with their heart in such an exposed place! I’ve heard of havin’ yer heart on yer sleeve, but this is ridiculous! Besides,” Meouch peered at Strive’s core, refraining from crushing it beneath his grip, “how’s this thing supposed to store a whole ship? That goes against anythin' I’ve ever seen. Normal compression tech can't explain this!”

Sung eyed the feline warily, ready to stop the beast if he chose to paw at the gem again. “To be fair, Meouch, we’ve stumbled across stranger things than this. If anything, I think it's just more surprising than what we're used to.” Meouch grumbled something unintelligible, crossing his arms as he looked in the opposite direction. It would seem he was still unsure of what to think about their mysterious guest.

“Strange and surprisin' are two different things. This kid’s got mystery surroundin’ him and I don’t like it. Phobos, what do ya think?” 

The russet rocketeer came to Meouch’s side, his vacant helmet staring at Strive with intense interest. The masked figure shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as he made multiple complex hand gestures. Unable to follow, Strive watched the bizarre dance unfold, watching the curious being as he made a few large movements, ending his physical monologue with a hearty thumbs-up.

Meouch rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself. “Everyone’s a critic. . . .” 

Sung’s hand descended onto Strive’s shoulder. “See? Phobos isn’t wary of this kid, so you shouldn’t be either. You have a tendency to be quite harsh on strangers, you know.”

The large cat bristled in annoyance, his fangs peeking out from underneath his strong muzzle. “I’m not harsh, yer’e all too soft! Especially you, Captain Quiet! Yer gentle soul gimmick will bite ya in the ass one day!” Phobos seethed in his spot, stomping his foot loudly while he flailed his fists through the air. The rocketeer crossed his arms, turning his back to the blue beastie. “Whatever, it’s not my fault yer’e all so sensitive. I’ve got instinct to back me up, somethin' ya dipshits seem to lack.” Meouch let a low growl roll through his throat, his eyes narrowed in slits as he looked Strive up and down. “I’ve got my eye on ya, kid. I’ll be the one to determine if yer’e really tellin' the truth.”

“And how would you like me to show that I’m not lying?” huffed Strive, feeling frustrated with how abrasive the beast was being. “Would you feel better if I gave you some proof?”

“Actually, yeah. Show me this ship of yer’s, kid. I won’t believe it ‘till I see it.”

“That’s . . .” Strive hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, unsure of how he was actually going to call his ship into existence. He already learned that his normal was definitely not theirs. Apparently vessels didn’t just materialize into their pilots. He looked down at his core, grazing his fingers lightly over the surface. How was he meant to bring it out?

Meouch scoffed, turning his head up with an air of haughty attitude. “Bah, looks like yer’e tellin' us a bunch of lies now. Yer story sounded like a load of crap the moment ya showed up. What’s yer real deal, kid? Some type of spy? Workin' for the enemy, are ya?”

Sung frowned disapprovingly, walking his way between the two squabbling figures. “Hey now, let’s all be civil here—”

Strive bristled in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he placed himself in front of the ill-mannered beastie, holding himself high while he addressed the intimidating creature. Him, the enemy? “I don’t even know anything outside of my home planet! So what gives you the right to be such a jerk to me? I’m just as confused as you are!” 

“Then why come out here? How naïve could ya possibly be to venture out here without any sort of knowledge on the open cosmos? I marvel at yer stupidity, kid.” 

“Meouch!” yelled Sung, unable to mirror the beast’s height. “Calm down, will you?”

“I came here for a reason! I’m going to bring the stars back to my people and save them all!” Strive’s eyes lit with a fierce glare, his vision becoming red with rage. His feathered ears were pressed back, taut and trembling in anger. “I didn’t know what to expect, but that’s no reason to back down! I’m willing to risk it all for those I care about!”

“So yer’e just some high strung twerp, huh?” Meouch raised himself many measures higher, the ferocious cat towering over the boy’s small frame. “Catapultin' yerself into the unknown with a death wish is what ya did. Whether yer’e the enemy or just some stupid kid in over his head, we don’t have time to babysit yer sorry ass. Unlike ya, we actually know what we’re doin' out here. Yer’e just askin' to drift towards yer grave.”

An intense azure light overtook Strive’s core, the brilliant gem illuminating his determined features. “Then at least I die trying! I refuse to sit back while my world withers around me; I will be the one to change our fates!” He grasped his centre, his fingertips beginning to prickle upon contact. “So why don’t you just _back off_?!”

Surprisingly, Meouch did. His eyes were large, the previous slits engulfed in a deep black as he watched the unexpected light show before him. During his rage, Strive failed to notice the intense energy that surged from within his core, his fingertips greedily collecting the sparks of white. He gasped loudly, turning his hand to marvel at the galvanizing current. They lapped at his fingers like electric waves, sizzling with delight once they made their way to the surface. Strive inhaled sharply when the lights coiled themselves into his upwards palm, a brilliant circle hovering in his grasp. 

Sung watched from the sides, his eyes most likely wide beneath his dark visor. “What is that, kid?”

“I-I don’t know. That’s never happened before.” He observed the ball of light, unsure of what its purpose was. First, something goes into his core. Then, something comes out of it! With such a strange phenomena only connected to one thing, the answer became clear. It was his ship.

The white energy flared to life, the ethereal shape jumping out into the open space. Watching on the sidelines was Phobos, the poor soul having to jump out of the way when the ball of light crashed into the ground near his feet. He narrowly avoided the sudden appearance of a long, flexible wing, throwing himself to the ground at just the right moment. He watched in silent awe as the vessel began taking form, a gloved hand pressed to his head in disbelief. 

Amidst the blinding light came the sleek shape of Strive’s vessel, the mysterious carrier just as beautiful as when he had first seen it. The ship hovered quietly over the land, its bottom fin refusing to touch the earth beneath. Its wings were lowered to its sides, the thin appendages sweeping into a relaxed curve. The cockpit remained empty, the faint outline of the control panel barely visible through the tinted viewing space. Strive’s core thumped feverishly when he gazed upon his vessel, overjoyed to know that it hadn’t disappeared from his grasp.

It was also hard to subdue the smug grin that was threatening to make an appearance, Meouch’s stuttering growl the culprit for such a reaction.

“That actually came outta ya?!” 

“You really think I’d lie about something so strange? I was hoping you guys would have the answers!”

Meouch shook his head furiously, his mane whipping back and forth in one large unit. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my travels, but that’s just unbelievable! What kind of tech did ya get yer hands on, kid? And where can I get one?” The feline dashed towards the solid ship, running excited circles around the carrier.

Strive walked over to his vessel, placing a hand against its surface. The ship didn’t make an effort to pull him in with a blossomed grip, seeming well aware of its pilot’s current desire. The connection he felt with the vessel was something he was unable to articulate, a strong bond hiding beneath its unassuming exterior. 

“It's like I first told you: it fell out of the sky. It seems to listen to my thoughts. It was the reason I ever managed to leave my planet in the first place.” 

“That is so strange,” Sung appeared beside him seconds later, reaching out with a hesitant hand as he carefully dragged his fingers over the smooth surface. “I’ve never seen a ship like this before. This thing qualifies as ethereal!”

Phobos sprung towards the ship, taking his chance to see the marvel up close. He tilted his head to the side, getting up close to the point where his helmet was reflecting on the white surface. Then, he pulled a strange object from out of his side pockets, the small device beeping in a low tone. He waved the device across the vessel, pushing a few buttons once and awhile, the pitch changing with each new area observed. Finally, the machine gave a digital sigh, the device displaying a blank screen. Phobos scratched his head, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion; he seemed stumped.

“Nothing, Phobos? Even more strange . . .” While Phobos milled about in the back, Meouch had managed to crash into the rocketeer, the two of them becoming wrapped up in a heated argument over who ran into who. Sung sighed and turned his attention to their missing guest, the bulky robot laying idle beneath his ship. “Havve, I need you for a few seconds! Power up and get your rusty caboose over here.” 

Havve’s red orbs lit immediately, the mechanical nightmare whirring to life in response to the call of his companion. He lifted his hulking weight effortlessly, clicking eerily as he approached the group. Strive still couldn’t help but shudder when he heard his inner workings come to life, every sound unnatural and cold. While the drumming was revealed to be some sort of manufactured pulse, the thumping still filled his core with dread; his artificial nature was unnerving.

Sung waved the beast close, pointing to the ship as he mouthed something to the robot. Strive raised an eyebrow, curious to know what he and the mechanical being were talking about. Havve made a series of whirring noises, his ruby orbs flashing intensely while he observed the vessel. His multiple arms carefully hovered over the exterior, each limb holding something different as they hastily moved over the ship. Unable to keep up with the dizzying display, Strive decided to focus on Sung instead, the man’s expression seeming unusually troubled. When Havve finished his report, the doctor looked even more concerned, turning away and talking quietly with the robot. 

Strive kept eyes trained on his vessel in an attempt to appear uninterested, secretly concentrating his hearing in their direction. He strained hard, his feathered ears flicking from the sudden exertion. While Havve couldn’t utter a peep, Sung had mentioned he had a tendency to speak regardless of a one-way communication barrier. With enough effort, he could make out pieces of what Sung was saying. 

“—we can’t, not now. Something like this is tricky and requires more proof before we jump to any conclusions. You know we can’t tell the others and—” 

Sung’s dialogue was cut short when a deafening shrieking filled Strive’s hearing. He grimaced, bringing his hands up to his ears in an effort to block out the disgusting noise. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to follow the uncomfortable shriek to its source. 

Strive’s core sank. The metal beast had turned his head to look at him, his piercing glare burning a hole through the young Moebian. Looking at Havve’s outwards jaw, Strive could see how he was intentionally grinding it together the create that awful noise, essentially blocking his ability to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

The doctor was looking as well, a worried grimace evident on his face. “Heh, I guess your hearing is a little too sharp, huh? Sorry about Havve, he’s, uh . . . You know, I think he and I will go over here so I can fix his ‘jaw issue’. See you soon, kid. Feel free to get to know Phobos and Meouch a little more while we’re gone! Eh—bye!” 

The duo hurried away from the ship, positioning themselves well beyond his range; the strange doctor looked back once before matching pace with the robot. Strive felt a lump of uncertainty catch in his throat, the secretive nature of the two beings a little worrying. Was there something they weren’t telling him? Not only him, but the rest of the crew?

Speaking of the remaining members, it was recommended that he get to know the other two a lot better. Having already come into contact with Meouch, Strive had a solid idea of how stubborn, abrasive, and loud the blue beastie was. He seemed rough, intent on stirring up his companion’s emotions as a form of amusement. In addition, he could be such a jerk. Although he was hopeful that time would help loosen these negative impressions, Strive wasn’t too keen on getting to know him just yet. 

Phobos, on the other hand, was an interesting fellow. Sung seemed to place a lot of trust in his observations, perhaps serving as the mechanic of the group? With Strive’s keen attention, he could tell that his gloves were a lot more worked than any of the others, suggesting his role was much larger than just a silent stand in. Though it would probably be difficult to get a single word from him, he felt a lot more willing to engage with the quiet rocketeer than he did the ferocious lion. 

Sure, why not get to know them more? It couldn’t hurt to learn more of this motley crew of travellers. Unfortunately, that would mean interrupting the fight that was still happening between the two crew members, another task Strive found himself wrapped up in against his better judgement.


	8. Charades and Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An impromptu lesson with Phobos leads to a better understanding of the silent rocketeer, the promise of friendship slowly rising on the horizon. Not only that, but it would appear Sung's ultimate goal is to pester a cat towards complete humiliation, risking a few scratches for a good laugh or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/09/28) Image by the wonderous [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/65136688#workskin) **

It had been a few hours since Strive had the uncomfortable pleasure of interrupting the heated argument between Meouch and Phobos, the two engaged in a series of snarls and exaggerated movements as they faced off against one another. The mere presence of him was enough to make Meouch recoil in annoyance, deciding to end his disagreement early in favour of distancing himself from the novice traveller. While it was a relief that he didn’t have to get very involved, it was still disheartening that Meouch viewed him with hostility. The boy had secretly hoped that the gruff beastie would drop his guard once his vessel was revealed, yet the grumpy furball only showed more resistance, choosing to remove himself from Strive and Phobos as the sun slowly set.

The sun—another thing Strive had to add to his vocabulary. Turns out that the persistent light he had noticed was actually a burning ball of gas in the sky, something his people had never encountered before. If Sung hadn’t gifted him with those correction lenses, he most certainly would have gone blind from the intense shine; it was incredibly lucky that the doctor had some with him at the time. 

The most shocking thing was that the sun was actually a star! A genuine star! Strive could hardly believe it when this fact was presented, the foreign sphere unfamiliar and distant to his core. Sweltering, blinding and indescribably intimidating, this dot was not one he felt a connection to. While it may be a star, it definitely didn’t feel like the glimmering, celestial forms he found comfort in. Oddly enough, the Void had never made an effort to snatch this specific type of star, perhaps for the same reasons he felt from within. It may hold the ultimate title, but it would never live up to the legacy of starlight.

Thinking back to his planet, Moebius only had the moon, his people having relied on the stars’ reflective light source to keep track of time; since the stars had been missing for so long, time was nearly meaningless, causing everyone to drift through the hours without much to look forward to. Sure, they still had a way to tell time, but it wasn't the same as their temporal starlight. In consequence of its disappearance, the moon was also shrouded in darkness, hardly serving its previous purpose. Strive’s people were locked in an eternal night, their entire system crumbling without their vital starlight.

Here was different, and apparently quite common too. There existed fluctuating cycles of daylight and nightfall, each taking turns in regards to who dominated the skies. The day consisted of the bright ball of light, illuminating the entire planet and supplying life. The night—a concept Strive was very comfortable with—supposedly signaled the end of the day, encouraging those underneath its blanket to rest. It was all so strange. Unsure of how to function, Strive was hopeful that he would be able to condition himself in a way that closely resembled the patterns of the beings around him. That is, depending on how long he planned to stay with them.

A light tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality, the culprit behind the contact patiently waiting for him to continue their conversation. “Sorry, Phobos. Can you show me again?”

Phobos gave an eager nod, repeating the hand motion he was performing in front of Strive. The two of them sat cross-legged beneath the shadow of Phobos’ ship—the thick shade a welcomed relief to the sun-sensitive Moebian—and faced one another with a stack of unorganized papers, each one scribbled with words, jumbled sentences and visual cues; they were in the middle of an impromptu lesson regarding silent communications. 

The rocketeer brought two fingers to his helmet, his remaining fingers curled beside each other as they connected to his thumb. He swiftly moved his hand outwards, flicking his wrist away from his head. He lowered his hand, looking over expectantly. Strive pondered the motions, thinking back the drawn instructions he had received. 

“That’s your friendly greeting, yes?” He relayed the exact same gesture back to Phobos, his fingers a little off in terms of how he curled them. Phobos nodded happily, raising a fist and bowing it rapidly in confirmation. Strive smiled, happy that he was getting the hang of it. The Lexicomm he was given—rather, the one forcefully shoved into his ear—was meant to translate any auditory language into one the user understood, allowing for all forms of sound-based communication to be comprehended. Unfortunately, this did not include visual language such as letters and words. 

The papers that Phobos wrote on were of no use to the boy, just as his own writing was useless to the rocketeer. Their symbols clashed together, each of the drastically different icons making it easy to distinguish which scribbles belonged to whom. Thankfully, Phobos was skilled enough to relay his thoughts through simple drawings, his pictures painting a thousand unspoken words. While it took a little extra confirmation at times, Strive eventually got the hang of interpreting his hieroglyphics. 

Phobos began the process of drawing another cue, the rocketeer pausing for a few moments as he thought about how to represent the next action. It took a little more time that usual, but Strive didn’t mind. He liked watching the silent man draw his interesting instructions. After a few minutes of scribbling, Phobos lowered his pen, putting it into one of his side pocket before sliding the paper towards Strive. 

It showed a crudely drawn Phobos waving his arms, ominously shaded blobs looming over what he assumed were the other crew members. Sung had an elongated cone head, Havve was round with spindly little arms, the Moebian was represented with poofy hair, his ears fluffed and drooped; it was quite humorous! Lastly was Meouch, the hulking feline drawn with an angry, scribbled face, the beastie’s features exaggerated to bring out the worst in him—Strive noticed the stink lines swaying above his doodled figure. 

It would seem that Phobos wasn’t the biggest fan of the snarky feline either. 

Suppressing a giggle, he pieced together the cues in effort to make a coherent story. The blobs seemed to be the focus, the evil drawings creeping up on the crew from behind. Judging by doodle Phobos’ reaction, he seemed to be trying to make them aware of something. 

“Hmm . . . is this a sign for attention?” Phobos tilted his head to the side, wobbling his hand back and forth; not quite the answer. He stood up and began emoting the action, one hand placed on his helmet while the other was pointing towards the open air, his foot tapping sporadically while his hands quivered. “Uhm, would it be a warning?” Phobos nodded enthusiastically, offering an outstretched palm from Strive to hit. He proceeded to give the space man a friendly high-five.

At first, Strive was worried that the silence surrounding Phobos would be a difficult hurdle to get over. Yet it turned out that he was incredibly gifted at emoting his thoughts; even the most inexperienced travellers were able to gain some sort of impression on what he was saying. As their lessons continued, Strive found himself more comfortable around the mute being, his silent gestures easily translated through continued exposure. Either that or he was really good at guessing.

As class came to a close beneath the crimson skies, Strive felt confident enough to question the rocketeer. “Phobos? How do you talk to others when you’re in your ship? Surely you can’t always be displayed on their screens. You probably couldn’t write fast enough either. I guess that would also be a problem since you all write differently.” 

Phobos lit up, tapping his head thoughtfully while he cradled the bottom of his helmet with his thumb and index finger; an excellent question indeed. He began tapping his fingers furiously on the ground, each movement having different intervals between taps, punches, and open air. Listening to the rhythm, Strive’s memories opened up to a similar sound he had heard during their chase. “You use some sort of tapping?”

Phobos gave a hearty thumbs up, nodding enthusiastically at the boy's quick learning skills. He began tapping the earth once more, this time exceptionally louder. Each collision with the dirt seemed to have a purpose, different taps elongated or fleeting based on how he wished to articulate himself. Oddly enough, the random taps began to make sense; Phobos was technically creating an auditory language.

“ _—like that. You hear?_ ”

Strive’s jaw dropped as he listened to the earthy language roll from beneath Phobos’ fingertips. It was a little choppy, but undeniably incredible. It wasn’t really a voice though, more like the gravelly hiss of an artificial tone. Unable to contain his giddy smile, he found himself gushing over the unbelievable outlet. “That’s amazing! Why don’t you communicate this way whenever you’re not on your ship?”

The rocketeer paused before resuming his tapping, his movements swift as he tried to get his message out. “ _Not refined. Sloppy. Only emergencies. Hard to do long. Takes too long. Tech only on ship._ ” Judging by how quick and frequent he needed to be when tapping out a message, Strive understood why he preferred his emotive ways. It was a lot easier to get your point across through abstract displays rather than sporadic pattering. Besides, movement was a lot more noticeable than the quiet impact of a surface. _“Tech on ship is clear. Quick. Understood better._ ” 

“I guess that makes sense.” Perhaps his next question was a little too personal, but it was digging away at the back of his mind, screaming to be vocalized. “If you don’t mind me asking: why don’t you just talk?” Phobos stopped tapping immediately, looking towards him with a blank expression. Strive gulped nervously, fearing he had tread upon unwelcomed territory. “But you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to! I’m sorry, that was really inconsiderate of me to blurt out and very uncalled for—”

Phobos raised a hand, signalling for him to quiet down. The rocketeer shook his head slowly, but not in a gesture of anger. No, he seemed quite calm and understanding, much to Strive’s relief. The gold and red figure began strumming the earth once more, his artificial words coming out slower due to his growing tap-fatigue. _“Took oath of silence. Personal reasons. Not offensive. Good question._ ” He paused to wiggle his hand, no doubt feeling the strain. “ _Refuse to speak. Never will. Promise made. Finger hurts. Tapping done._ ” With that, the rocketeer ceased his cramped tapping, leaning back while he cradled his overexerted fingers. He flicked his wrist multiple times in effort to regain some sensation, any remaining tension gradually fading with each wiggle. 

After hearing Phobos’ explanation, Strive thought it best not to dig any further. It would seem that many of the crew members had secrets surrounding them, some more mysterious than others. He had no right to judge seeing as he himself was shrouded in mystery, though it was completely unintentional. If he knew about his connection to his vessel and its reasons for choosing him, he would absolutely explain everything to this motley group. Unfortunately, he was unable to provide any real answers, relying on the crew to teach him about the outside world instead. How long they would stick around was another mystery. They could easily leave him to fend for himself once he learned enough to function on his own. Truthfully, the thought sent waves of unease through his core. It was always nice to have company.

At the thought of companionship, Strive’s core ached as he envisioned those he left behind. If not the weary glares that followed him, then the loving aura he felt from his family. His grandfather, Etolous; even the faint aura of his mother was always there to comfort him back home, calming his thoughts when things felt hopeless. Though she lacked a physical presence, the memories she resided in were enough to keep his spirits afloat.

The image he held of her was unchangeable, choosing to always view her as the hero he idolized. Although she was unsuccessful in bringing back the stars, Strive was certain he could take her place. She had given him the greatest gift in the cosmos and he was determined to claim it once more. If not for himself, then for his people. His mother especially. Bringing back their starlight felt like a way to bring her back as well, even if it was just in the form of bittersweet memories. At least her gift would stay with his core forever, looking down from where they rightfully belonged.

Strive kept his eyes trained to the rosy palette above, the crimson skies an unfamiliar, yet completely welcomed, sight. He had never seen a sky such as this, its previous coat of light blue forgotten as streaks of furious crimson, orange and gold melted into the vastness. This must be the switch he had been told about. Between the day and night. If he looked close enough, he could make out a dark, navy blue sheet clawing its way up the warm scale. 

What’s more, the two moons were now high in the sky, their white surfaces imitating the brightness of the slumbering sun. It had been more than a decade since Strive had witnessed the glowing presence of a moon, let alone two! They were so much brighter than he had remembered; perhaps it had something to do with the glowing orb that was hiding beneath the horizon. They must have been reflecting some of its rays of light, this theory explaining why they were so eager to illuminate the darkening land. 

Having forgotten the silent figure beside him, Strive nearly jumped when he felt a familiar tap on his shoulder. He must have noticeably flinched since his sudden twitch startled the rocketeer, the man placing a hand over his pleated chest in shock. The boy scrambled to gather his bearings, a shameful pink flooding his cheeks. “Sorry, Phobos! I must have been off in my own little world for a while. What were you saying?” 

His sleek suit was gleaming beneath the glow of the moons, highlighting the edges of his futuristic form. He held both of his gloved hands close to his helmet’s maw, cupping his hands together as one form. Then, he began squeezing his open hands down, signalling some sort of action.

The gears in Strive’s mind began turning, recognizing this expression from earlier. “Food?” Phobos nodded happily, adding an additional prompt as he pointed towards the moons. “Something more specific . . . oh! Dinner?” The rocketeer gave a joyous thumbs up, moving his arms in a celebratory action. Strive blushed in embarrassment from the unspoken praise he was receiving, a bashful grin wobbling to the surface.

The two of them stood up, gradually making their way towards the centre of their little gathering area. It looked as if someone had set up a fire, the orange flames lapping towards the air with a fevered starvation. Even at a distance, he could hear a satisfying crackle as the kindling gave into the powerful heat, their ashy particles floating away in the breeze. On their way to the fire, he and Phobos managed a few more words, their combination of voice and expression an easier feat to manage thanks to their practice. Strive was surprised by how chatty Phobos could be even without a voice!

When they approached the fire, Strive saw Sung and Meouch reclining near the blaze, their features alive from the flickering shadows of the flames. They seemed to be chatting happily, a short, high pitched laugh escaping Sung while the beastie beside him grumbled a few humorous words. Phobos increased his speed, extending an arm out and waving a greeting. 

Sung perked up even more once his crew member joined the fun. “There’s our favourite Phobos! I was wondering when you and the kid would finally join us. How’d the lessons go?”

Phobos looked towards the young traveller, tapping his foot and tilting his head to the side as if to ponder the question. He raised his shoulders in a large shrug, flicking his hands out dramatically with a shake to the head.

Strive puffed up immediately. “Hey, I was doing great! You even said- _show_ yourself!” Phobos held his stomach as if to chuckle, placing a hand to his head while his body trembled from a bout of silent laughter. Strive soon joined in, letting a few giggles escape him once Phobos’ act was shown to be false. The two of them were very good at understanding one another now. 

“Ha! Said-show—I’m going to use that for now on. You’ve got a quick sense of humor, kid. That’s something I always love seeing from my crew members. Now then,” Sung eagerly patted the ground, inviting the two of them to sit. “Feel free to get comfy! Havve and I took the liberty of whipping up some dinner for the four of us while you were away. Hopefully it’s to your liking, kid.”

Strive could hear Meouch let out a low huff, the beastie’s gaze narrow in his direction; he tried his best to ignore it. As a distraction, he let his eyes follow Sung while he went to retrieve the dinner he and the mechanical creature had prepared, the intimidating robot nowhere to be seen. If the boy looked hard enough, the faint glow of two red orbs was scarcely visible beneath the green ship, the robot having returned to his neutral position from before. Strive assumed he wouldn’t be joining them for dinner.

It only took a few moments for Sung to return, his arms full of different plates, bowls and edible objects. The first thing Strive noticed was the heavy spices that assaulted his senses, the odd aroma a confusing addition to his limited palate. The item in question was swiftly handed off to Meouch, the beastie’s tail flicking sporadically when he took the plate, his fangs visible as he licked his lips in anticipation. Strive wasn’t sure what was in the dish, but something about it didn’t sit well in his stomach. The aroma, the glistening appearance of the lean substance, the way it resembled some type of cooked creature; it was unsettling to say the least.

Sung set aside a modest plate for himself, humming a little tune while he organized the portions of food for each member. He walked around the fire so he could reach Phobos, handing him a dish similar to his own. This one smelt sweeter, like a crack of something crisp and refined. The food was sprinkled with green garnishes, curly spices blending in with the colourful mixture. While Meouch was left snarling into his food with his bare paws, Phobos was given a small spoon in which to carefully cradle his stew.

The silent man raised his hand in thanks, suddenly lifting himself up so he could retreat from the group. Strive watched in confusion as Phobos sat himself in the dark shadow of his ship, his back turned to the group; the boy could make out the faint sound of the utensils scraping against the bowl. 

Seeing his concern, Sung quickly cleared the air. “See, he never takes that helmet off. Well, at least not in front of us. We’ve learned to leave him alone when it comes to eating as a group, respecting his privacy and all. He’s a great guy, but I tell you—he’s shrouded in so much mystery that he makes Havve look like an open book! I swear, that guy is the hardest to squeeze answers out of.” Upon hearing this, Strive forced himself to stop watching him eat out of respect for his odd request. “Don’t worry, he’ll come back once he’s finished.”

With everyone’s food organized, it was time for Strive to receive his portion. After looking at Meouch’s uncomfortable mixture, he found himself feeling a little apprehensive for what Sung had whipped up. Having been on a strict diet of tarrocs and pinsarps nearly all his life, he wasn’t sure his weak stomach would be able to handle anything too extreme. Although it would probably be more nutritious than those bland root vegetables he was subjected to, he was more worried about his reaction towards the food these strangers had been gracious enough to provide him with. What if he couldn’t stomach it? No matter what, he had to remain polite, even if it caused him to fall ill for the rest of the night.

“Alrighty, here we are,” Sung balanced the last plate on an outstretched palm, handing it over with a proud lift to his voice. “A specialty of mine. Truthfully, I haven’t made this in a few years, but don’t worry! I made sure to keep it suitable for your kind. Hopefully these vegetables will help strengthen your body for the cosmos. Full of lots of nutritious substitutes too.” Strive eyed the bowl cautiously, observing the different chunks of colourful vegetables that bobbed to the steaming surface. He gave it a small sniff, trying to detect any offensive aromas. “Don’t worry, kid. I know your kind can’t handle meat very well. When I say it’s completely vegetarian, you have my word.”

Strive blinked in surprise, taking his spoon and running it through the unfamiliar contents. True to his word, it would seem the doctor knew better than to add any meat—the boy couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of ever consuming something living! Now that he knew this fact, the dish instantly became more appealing. He felt his mouth water as he gave his thanks, his sincerity flooding over just like his saliva. 

Sung let out an amused chuckle, finding his way back to his own spot across the fire. “No worries, kid. Eat up! You need to build up some strength for the long haul ahead.” Whatever this 'long haul' entailed, Strive couldn’t care less. He eyed the contents of his bowl hungrily, realizing how starved he truly was after all these years. He could scarcely remember the food his mother had prepared back home, their heavenly tastes long forgotten when chalky flavours took over. Now he had a chance to experience real flavours, not just wistful memories of the past. 

His core flickered to life as excitement took hold, his first spoonful finding its way to his taste buds. The gratification was instantaneous. Rich flavours danced across his tongue, a combination of delectable sweetness and foreign tang swirling together to create the ultimate experience. Each item within the bowl was of a different shape and consistency, yet their fusion was a flavourful masterpiece. Even the liquid they were suspended in was alluring, the mixture having collected a little piece of every vegetable in a salty pool. Strive shovelled the remaining contents within a few minutes, hardly finding a second to breathe through his food-induced euphoria. It had been years since a dish had left him with a feeling of satisfaction. It had also been years since he had excitedly asked for a second plate. 

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


With stomachs full and spirits recharged, the group sat around the roaring fire, voices raised as they talked amongst one another. The only one missing was Havve, his deactivated husk still resting peacefully beneath his ship. Phobos had since rejoined the group, the rocketeer returning with an empty plate and secured helmet. While there were still many questions that burned a hole in Strive’s mind, he felt it was best to bury them out of respect for Phobos. Besides, he didn’t want to enrage someone who seemed to treat him as a friend.

Not only him, but Sung as well. The two of them had no trouble opening their arms to him, offering nothing but good words and patience. Unfortunately, the same still couldn’t be said for Meouch, the miserable feline keeping his arms crossed in annoyance whenever conversations flew through the group. His large nostrils would flair whenever he let out a puff of irritation, usually when Strive made the effort to speak.

“Yeah, we haven’t been a team that long really,” hummed Sung, placing a hand thoughtfully beneath his chin. He was reclined comfortably on the ground, his other hand resting on his upwards knee. “Havve and I have been travelling together for way longer than we have with these two oddballs. In fact, it was by accident that I stumbled across Phobos and Meouch. Just one big dimensional mishap.”

Meouch sniffed, rolling his crescent eyes to oblivion. “Please, someone as irritatin’ as ya probably did it on purpose. Accident my ass. Ya seem to make it yer mission to meddle in others' affairs.”

“You’re right about me nosing my way into places that I don’t belong. In fact, it’s in my nature! But seriously! One minute I’m in the Fifth Dimension, then the next thing I know— _zoop!_ I crash land sometime in the First Dimension!"

"Tsk, crash land is right. Yer ship was hardly functionin' when ya interrupted us. Looked like that thing had been chewed up by some type of space creature. I'm surprised y'even made it to a planet before ya kicked the bucket. At least Havve's ship was in workin' condition. Well, besides the busted engine. Phobos was stuck for weeks workin' on a way to repair that disaster. "

Sung gave a strained smile. "Like I said: one big dimensional mishap. It wasn't something I saw coming at all, trust me. If you think I was capable of planning that, then you must see me as one smart cookie.” 

“Bah, fat chance. Yer still nothin’ but an air headed loon!”

“A loon with the occasional stroke of genius, mind you.”

“That’s not enough to reassure me, Sung.”

“And yet you’re still here, kitty cat! You must value my intelligence after all!” Meouch shut his mouth, fuming to himself and cursing the infuriating aura surrounding his leader. “Now then, back to the story. Meeting, yes! Havve and I recruited Phobos and Meouch after we stumbled across them in a battle of life and death.”

Strive’s eyes widened, looking between Phobos and Meouch in disbelief. Well, somewhat. He already had a hunch that Phobos didn’t get along with the abrasive beastie after viewing his unflattering depiction of his crew member. It was funny to imagine him as the crude drawing, all stink lines included.

The beastie growled when Strive looked him over. “Take a picture, it’ll last ya longer, kid!” 

The boy flinched, making sure to only look at Phobos for the time being. 

“Oh yes, you wouldn’t believe it but these two were bitter rivals at one point, battling it out in the plains of Phobos’ home world. This guy,” Sung jabbed a thumb towards the bristling creature, “was part of a group of smugglers transporting illegal substances through the galaxy. He and his old crew decided to pick a fight with Phobos’ people thinking they’d be an easy target. But let me tell you . . . wow. I was impressed by the fight our little rocketeer put up.”

Phobos flexed his arm, shooting his visored glare towards Meouch as he strengthened Sung’s claim. He then raised a finger in the feline's direction, one that Strive didn’t recognize the meaning for. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Meouch puff up in irritation. “It was a fluke is all! I could send yer ass to next millennia if ya gave me the chance!”

“Uhuh, sure you could, mittens. Where was I . . . yeah, so Phobos comes out and is practically driving all of those pirate lackeys back to their ships, tails tucked between their legs. Then comes the boss! Can you guess who that is, kid?”

Strive didn’t look over when he said it. “Uhm, Meouch?”

“Right on! This little kitty was the leader of the pirate smugglers! How’s that for a resume title? So this guy is squaring up with Phobos, weapons flashing, claws slashing, the whole nine yards. By chance I happened to stumble right between the two of them when tampering with my ship’s coordinates. I was so impressed with their fighting spirits that I asked them to join my little crew. Of course, they weren’t too keen on joining together . . . but I eventually convinced them with my stellar charisma and alluring attitude.”

Strive called lies on that.

“Please, yer’e just unbearably persistent. Wouldn’t leave Phobos and I alone until we agreed to yer little offer, even if it involved sittin’ between us as we fought! I’ve never seen a bein' as brave and stupid as ya in my life.” Meouch scoffed, gazing away from the fire as his harsh visage relaxed, making way for an unexpected moment of deep reflection. “I guess it’s not so bad, though. Sure beats pickin’ fights left and right.” He quickly corrected himself. “Well, beats _unnecessary_ fights. I still enjoy the chance to rough up some pointed assholes when the time calls for it. If I were to choose, I’d say this is a lot better than smugglin’ some overhyped paraphernalia through endless debris fields. But only by a little bit.”

“Aw, how sweet. If you aren’t careful, you’ll make me blush up a storm; I may even purr!” Meouch snarled at the doctor's remark, his ears lowered in a complex mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. “Glad to know being a good guy is a lot better than selling catnip your whole life. I knew you were just one big softie. A little kitten who could barely flex his claws against the silent wonder.” It was amusing to watch Sung as he purposely riled the big cat up once more, the man seeming to gain great pleasure in egging on his crew member. The smile he held wasn’t malicious in the slightest, simply displaying the childish nature he possessed.

“He didn’t beat me! We were nearly even. I was about to finish him off until ya stuck yer big ol’ conehead into our business!”

“Hmm, that’s not what Phobos told me, nor does that match what I saw . . .”

Meouch rose his paws to the air in exasperation, pointing a clawed finger towards the cross-legged rocketeer, “He can’t even speak, dipshit! Yer memories are more jumbled than that insane head of yers!”

“My mind is as sharp as they come. You’ve complimented my near-perfect recollection before, remember? But I guess not since you haven’t the same cognitive levels as I do.” 

“Hmph, big talk for someone within clawin' distance.”

“Ha! Big talk for the kitty within Phobos distance. Care to prove me wrong right now?” Sung waved Phobos on, gaining a proud reaction from the silent warrior. He raised a fist, flexing one arm as a means to taunt the livid beastie. Meouch fumed silently, unable to articulate his words. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Knowing better than to start a fight, Meouch willed himself to stay put, crossing his arms the tightest they would go as he scowled furiously in place. His tail lashes across the dirt, sending up clouds of dust for Sung to choke on. For all that bark, it would seem Meouch possessed no bite. At least none that Strive has witnessed first hand 

Sung scoffed to the side, swinging a dismissive hand. “Think whatever you will, Meouch. But I know what I saw; Phobos was definitely going to be the one to finish you off. End of story. Now then,” The doctor completely ignored the fuming feline across from him, turning to address Strive and Phobos. “Why don’t I tell you about the time we got stuck in the cosmic tides? I’ll tell you about how we had to rescue the poor little kitty from the clutches of a watery foe! All it took was a beach ball and pair of water wings—” Strive’s eyes lit up in anticipation, eager to hear about this odd, yet no doubt humiliating story meant to embarrass Meouch even further. A little teasing seemed like a fair trade for how harsh the beastie has treated him thus far. 

Judging by how red Meouch had become, it must have been pretty embarrassing to retell. Especially in front of a new companion.

Sung dove into the story right away, building up the scene and establishing a setting for Strive to follow. Talk of dimensional travel, crash landings, the risk of drowning and one nervous kitty wrapped up into a humorous whirlwind, each new turn taking Strive on a ride of howling laughter. Sung could hardly contain himself as he tried to continue with the details, stopping himself a few times to lean on Phobos for support, the two men chuckling in their own unique ways. Obviously, Meouch was very unimpressed. A humiliated wrinkle was plastered to his reddening nose, his fangs poking through his mortified muzzle. 

Strive leaned forwards as he awaited the climax of the story; the big reveal promised to cause unprecedented amounts of laughter. As Sung geared up for the big bang, a panicked arm suddenly swung in front of his chest, stopping him mid sentence. The doctor looked towards Phobos in confusion, a little disappointed he couldn’t finish his story. “What’s up, Phobos? You always love this part—”

The rocketeer held up one gloved hand, placing a finger by his helmet as he asked for silence. The air around the group grew tense, Sung’s joyous smile quickly replaced with a serious frown. Meouch loosened his arms, darting his eyes back and forth in order to scan the darkness around them. Strive reacted immediately to the cold shift, his core pulsing with a steady, fearful rhythm. “What’s wrong?”

Phobos waved his hand downwards, looking around the environment as well; Strive knew that meant he wanted his voice kept low. The group slowly rose to their feet, palming their sides as they prepared to reach for their weapons in the event of an ambush. The boy rose too, unable to keep seated in case he needed to make a break for it. As soon as he shifted, Sung brought an arm out, keeping the young traveller hidden behind his body. Phobos did the same, facing his back to Strive as he whipped his head to the sides. Surprisingly, even Meouch outstretched an arm, his claws visibility extended against the invisible foe. 

The beastie snarled into the darkness, his crescent black claws raised in hostility. He sniffed sharply, scowling with displeasure. “Show yerselves!” The growl that rose from Meouch was terrifying, his hackles raised in a way that made him appear bigger. His mane was puffed out too, the once organized hair jagged and untamed. His yellow eyes were nothing but harsh slits now, his muzzle scrunching up and showcasing his gleaming fangs. Meouch looked like a proper beastie now, one that Strive didn’t want to find himself on the other end of. “C’mon! Bring it on!”

The crisp crack of a branch alerted the group to the left, their attention hyper focused on the origin of the sound. Sung stood with a statue’s pose, unmoving while he awaited for their foe to appear. Phobos nudged him harshly, his unspoken words swiftly translated by the doctor. “Not yet. I won’t call Havve until we know what we’re up against.” Another snap caused the group the flinch, their hands tense as they prepared to call out their weapons. It seemed like Havve classified as a weapon as well, his wielder debating on if he should unleash the devastating force. 

Another terrifying quality to add to the robot's expanding list.

The shadows began to shift, their dainty whispers crawling across Strive’s sensitive skin. The trio of creeping forms wandered into the fire’s eerie glow, their features erupting into view as hot flames licked away at their alluring forms. There was a collective gasp from the group, their poised arms going limp once they beheld the culprits behind the noise. Strive gasped too, but for reasons unrelated to the other men.

It would seem that this planet wasn’t uninhabited after all.


	9. Screamadonnas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dastardly foe threatens the lives of the crew, leaving an inexperienced Strive to fend for himself. Well, not by himself. But certainly with an unexpected ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/10/08) Wow! This rendition of the Screamadonnas is absolutely perfect! Such a dynamic illustration by the insanely talented [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/65625481#workskin) **
> 
> (2020/12/19) A real treat for the eye—a detailed character sheet of the Screamadonnas at the end of this chapter! Done by the wonderful Nexeliam!

The hostile air swiftly vanished, the invisible force no longer suffocating the group within its dense mist. Instead, a new sense of interest peaked in each of the group members, their worries momentarily forgotten once they beheld the three feminine forms before them. Each of the bristled men suddenly became relaxed, their weapons no longer within their reach as they observed the enticing figures from the shadows, all eyes trained on the trio of women. 

These feminine creatures were quite tall, raising their slender bodies on curiously bowed legs, their feet appearing to be some type of polished, black hooves; they balanced upon even splayed toes, four to be precise. Their legs curved perfectly with each bend to their figure, ebony tufts of fur racing across their exposed bodies. The creatures giggled when the men trailed their eyes over their chests, a modest amount of fur covering what lay beneath. Unlike the older men, Strive felt no need for his eyes to linger, the immodest creatures causing an uncomfortable heat to rise to his face. The creatures must have noticed his discomfort, letting out a chorus of whimsy titters meant to tease the poor boy. They smiled sweetly, their sclerae nothing more than a rich, intoxicating blue.

The figures slowly tip-toed towards the group, their pointed ears perked upwards in curiosity. Beneath the dark tufts of fur were accents of peachy tone, the exposed skin evident on their faces, inner arms and swaying hips. The forerunner of the group extended her legs further, approaching the crew members much quicker than her companions. She wrinkled her pointed nose, tilting her head while she observed the men closely; she seemed very attentive, her features twitching ever so slightly as she picked up each little cue the group expressed. The leader looked Strive’s way, blinking in what seemed like confusion. Then, she returned her gaze back to the others, paying him no more heed. 

Strive found them fascinating, their physical features unlike anything he had seen before. The way they carried themselves was both cautious and incredibly graceful, each sway to their step acting as if it had a specific purpose. The three creatures sang softly with one another, their voices harmonizing in a gorgeous, sonorous melody—it sent uneasy chills down Strive's spine. These creatures seemed to be _very_ conscious of what they were doing with their bodies, gaining some sort of gratification from the responses the other men produced.

They were absolutely smitten by these women. 

Although Phobos’ expression was completely obscured by his helmet, it was hard to miss the zombie-like state he was in, his own body swaying in time with the approaching ladies. He seemed oblivious to anything outside his peripheral vision, his body dangerously close to the fire behind him. Upon seeing this, Strive felt a seed of worry bloom within his core. He hastily ran to the rocketeer, pushing him away from the blazing pit. The silent being didn’t even acknowledge him, forced to resume his trance-like dance. 

Meouch was no better, an enamoured aura swiftly overtaking the gruff feline. Strive could hear a deep rumble crawl up his throat, a bellowing purr unconsciously escaping the beastie’s chest. His yellow eyes were half-lidded, his vision far and unfocused. A persistent smile lay plastered to his fuzzy muzzle, the goofy grin curling upwards in fanged delight. Strive eyed his tail in concern, noticing how immobile it had become. It was alarming to see it rigid and still, the thin extension laying uselessly by his rear as he succumbed to an unseen spell. 

Strive was incredibly worried now. 

He decided to take a risk, tugging the navy cloth around the beastie’s waist rather harshly. The action hardly gained a reaction, the dopey feline keeping his tired eyes trained on the feminine creatures—they seemed to be singing louder now. Strive tried harder, using what little strength he had to push against the beastie’s leg. The harder he pushed, the more he was reminded of the dull ache he still possessed underneath his bandages. “Meouch! Snap out of it!” 

The feline's response was hardly a reassuring one. “Ya seein’ this, kid? Those are some mighty gorgeous women . . . never seen ladies as fine as this before . . .” The creatures overheard his slurred speech, giggling lightly as one of them traced her thin, dainty fingers across Meouch’s chin. The big cat shivered with delight, their devilish touch seeming to strengthen their invisible spell. Strive began to panic, his core flashing feverishly as he tried to think of another plan. 

He looked towards Sung, the man appearing equally spellbound by the oscillating women. Strive grabbed his arm and shook it roughly. “Sung! These things aren’t right! You’ve got to do something, quick!”

“Do something? What are you talking about, kid?” His voice was heavier than Meouch’s, his body swaying just like Phobos. “You’re seeing this, right? These ladies. . . they’re so beautiful! How could you just ignore them? They sound so lovely . . .” Another one of the creatures giggled from the compliments, her hoofed toes scratching the earth in excitement. She seemed to welcome the praise, her dark eyes crinkling wickedly as the men bent to their manipulative wishes. “If I knew beautiful women roamed this world, I would have parked our ships here sooner.” 

Scoffing nervously, Strive flicked his gaze across deceptive creatures. They kept their focus trained on the crew members, risking the occasional glance towards the boy whenever he moved freely between his hypnotized companions. They seemed confused, their enticing sways, songs, and suggestions proving ineffective on the young traveller. Truthfully, they almost looked annoyed by his resistance. There was no time to worry about his inexplicable immunity; he had to think of a plan, and fast!

He tried to get through to Sung again, physically claiming his attention by yanking him by his red scarf. Now at eye level, Strive pleaded once more. “You have to snap out of it! Meouch and Phobos are both acting strange as well; they’re not in control of their bodies! Neither are you!” An idea popped into his head, one sure to save them from this situation. “Havve! Call Havve to get us out of this mess! You can do that, right?” 

The doctor seems confused, tilting his head as the cloud of infatuation tampered with his common sense. “Call Havve? But he doesn’t even like girls . . . . He’s a robot, kid. Pretty sure he doesn’t care for that type of stuff. Having him introduce himself would be pointless . . . boasting zero brain cells doesn’t make for good conversation . . .”

“Sung! He’ll get us _out_ of this mess! Can’t you see this isn’t normal at all?!”

Sung huffed, moving his head so he could follow the path of the swaying women, their rising voices nearly drowning out the doctor’s garbled words. “It could be. No offense, but you’ve only just come to the cosmos, kid. Beautiful women aren’t that strange . . . I’ve seen stranger things . . . can’t remember when, though . . . .”

Strive released Sung’s scarf in defeat. The man watched the creatures circle around his captivated crew, eventually joining his team's position as the singing ladies danced the perimeter of their formation. Against the flickering of the flames, the creatures' faces were alive with ominous shadows, their grins toothy and full of sickly malice. Their bowed legs began to slow in pace, their hooves planting firmly on the dusty ground.

Strive watched in horror as the creatures chattered excitedly, their appearance slowly metamorphosing into a ghastly creation. Amidst the cracklings and splitting surfaces, he could only wonder what other monstrosities the cosmos held beneath its deceptive wraps. 

Their tufty, black legs rippled with a sickening crackle, their soft flesh ripping apart as their legs split down the middle. The appendages broke apart at the base of their four cloven hooves, each leg now having two separate toes. The creatures screeched loudly when they stretched their new legs outwards, their forms akin to a bug-like nightmare. Their dainty fingers twitched as sharp, obsidian claws broke through the surface, a navy substance oozing from the torn site. The feminine creatures giggled madly, their once chilling voices now distorted and ruined by their true forms. 

Strive shuddered when the nightmarish creatures clacked their fangs together, their movements quick and jittery; they were no longer graceful around their prey. The oblivious men were still trapped under their powerful spell, the sudden change in appearance doing nothing to wake them from their charmed coma. Strive nearly vomited from the offensive stench that emanated from the vile beasts, their sweet façade long since shed. 

The abominations paid no heed to the boy, having minimal use for a snack as small as him. With no weapons and no means to save his companions, fear enveloped the inexperienced traveller. While the creatures salivated uncontrollably, he felt the prickle of tears break to the surface, the force much too strong to resist. He wanted to help, but how could he? These creatures were about to devour the only friends he had made outside of his home world! Not to mention the only ones who shared the same drive as him; he couldn’t just let them die! He still had so many questions left to be answered.

The dread he felt was suffocating, his breath coming out in quick, shallow gasps. His vision tunnelled once panic set in, his chest feeling unbearably tight—with each new breath, he countered with a wheeze of hysterics. His hands began to tremble, his legs close to giving out. He could do nothing except watch the events unfold, constricted by the cuffs of a grim fate. His fear was a terrible force to endure . . . but perhaps it could be used as impromptu inspiration. 

One by one, the sinister women approached the helpless men, claws extended as they dragged their tongues over their fangs with voracious anticipation. It had been years since they had stumbled across prey such as this, the lean bodies of these men most certainly able to satisfy their persistent hunger. The devilish ladies reeled back, their multiple legs trembling in excitement as they prepared to strike. Unfortunately for them, it would seem someone had plans to crash their unwelcome dinner party.

A decent sized rock collided with the leading creature’s face, the impact leaving a bloody gash across her porcelain skin. The creature hissed loudly, turning her head with a sickly crack as she burned her venomous gaze into the culprit. Strive gasped loudly, his core lighting up with a nervous flutter. While it was difficult to steady his frightened body, he had enough wits about himself to stall the creature’s feast. If he was left breathless, then perhaps he could enact the same punishment on her with a simple rock to the head. It seemed like a fair trade off. 

The creature narrowed her dark eyes, using her multiple legs to scuttle towards the daring Moebian. A terrified scream escaped him as he jumped out of her way, her cloven hooves purposely trying to impale themselves into his body. The creature yowled crookedly, calling for her sisters to join in the pursuit. It was a relief that they were no longer targeting the rest of the crew. But now Strive was the target, no doubt an easy one to pick off.

He ran as fast as his wobbly feet would carry him, huffing coarsely as he willed himself to advance through the clearing. One of the creatures swiftly jumped in front of him, planting her legs firmly on the ground and lowering her body to his level, releasing a guttural scream in his direction. She extended her arms, ready to snatch him within her claws. He had no choice but to run straight for her, clumsily diving beneath her body as she shrieked in surprise, her vicious claws managing nothing more than a few strips of his flowing cloak. If not the close escape, then the unplanned impact between the creatures was satisfying enough, their bumbling forms slamming into one another without remorse. Strive let out a joyous cheer, jeering at their combined stupidity.

However, his celebration was short lived once the remaining creature crashed into him, pinning him beneath her onyx claws. She grinned in delight, the fresh gash on her face leaking a viscous substance; a ruby drop landed on Strive’s mangled cloak, seeping into the maroon fabric.

A pained yelp escaped him when the beast crushed him into the earth, his core sending waves of anguish through his body as it was forced into the hard soil. Desperation soon took hold. “Sung! Meouch! Phobos! Please, snap out of it! You’re all in danger!” No response came, everything replaced by the immobile husks of entranced zombies. A woeful crack developed in his voice. “Listen to me!”

The creature vibrated as distorted laughter bubbled from her throat, the beast seeming to take great pleasure in tormenting the young Moebian. Strive growled in defiance, wiggling his way towards one of her disgusting fingers. He found an exposed patch of skin and sunk his teeth into the horrid flesh. The creature howled in pain, instinctively pulling her hand back. Strive quickly pushed himself to his feet, gagging on the thick, metallic taste that violated his mouth. Taking this chance to slip away, he made a break for his vessel, hoping to find some sort of protection in its interior. Perhaps there would be a way for him to retaliate from within the shuttle.

With only a few more steps until contact, he reached out for his vessel—this action proved to be in vain. The injured beast came back with a furious vengeance, forcibly crashing her hand into his side. Strive yelped upon impact, his mangled body sent tumbling across the earth. He coughed pitifully as he tried to regain his breath, fresh air caught between staggered gasps and particles of dust. He grimaced when a sharp pain throbbed from his side, the damages feeling internal; she must have broken one of his ribs.

The creature whined a high-pitched moan, cradling her injured hand while she looked towards the boy in disgust. By now the remaining women had already recovered, clawing their bodies towards the young traveller with a hunger for revenge. Strive coughed once more, noticing the specks of red that drizzled from his mouth. The inside of his cheek had been ripped during their struggle, the nauseating tang of blood flowing across his tongue as he tried to claim what little air he had left. Surely this was the end for him.

When staring into death’s eyes, Strive never imagined he’d be consumed with a nagging feeling of frustration. He despised how weak he was, how he couldn’t protect those near him. While he was proud to have put up a fight, it was all for nothing. Soon the creatures would tear into his broken body, using him as an appetizer for the main course by the fire. His new friends would be lost, their ships left to rust once each pilot was consumed by these wicked creatures. They would all be left to decay, the only remains being the sulking husk of a powered down, mechanical nightmare.

Strive’s eyes went wide, his weary core thumping to life. Havve was still here!

Laying inactive beneath his ship was the hulking robot, eyes dim and head sagged during his slumbering state. His arms rested in a neutral position, his deactivated pose corresponding with Sung’s previous demands. If Sung asked him to power down, he would—the same followed for calling him into action. The doctor had mentioned that Havve would listen to the others, but only halfway. The real question was if the robot would respond to the wishes of a naïve traveller like himself.

Would he answer the call of someone as insignificant as Strive?

He swallowed greedy gulps of air, trying to regain enough strength to call out to the catatonic robot. His words were coming out in unintelligible wheezes, the injury to his ribs making it harder for him to scream. The pain was awful, each new breath sending a barrage of knives into his side. Not to mention the blood he found himself choking on whenever he gave a hasty gasp, the liquid obstructing his airways and nearly causing him to vomit. It was unattractive to say the least, but desperation was not a thing of vanity. It was his only shot at living another day. 

The creatures hobbled towards him, beastial intent clouding their eyes. It was now or never. “Havve! You have to wake up! We’re in danger!” Strive coughed midway, his eyes tearing up as he choked on a mixture of anguish and ruby liquid. “Sung can’t call you . . . but let me! Please, Havve! Do something!” 

The robot’s eyes remained dull, no sign of his artificial form jerking to life. The boy’s plea rested upon deaf ears, the metal figure appearing unresponsive. He howled in frustration, sending the last of his strength in the form of a furious cry. “It’s not a question, it’s an _order_! These are your commands, Havve! Get rid of these monsters! _Now!_ ”

It was too late. The vicious creatures leaped towards Strive’s trembling form, claws outstretched and fangs prepped for his mutilation. With all options exhausted, he narrowed his eyes and stared death in the face; his gaze was alive with the fires of defiance. If he was going to die, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him cower in fear. He’d stare them down as they tore their beastly claws into his flesh, keeping himself conscious in a fleeted act of protest until his eventual demise. 

Death would surely come, but not for him. 

The three lunging creatures were quickly intercepted, an insidious drumming filling the air as Havve whirred menacingly, his multiple arms twitching to life while they fought back the onslaught of attacks. Guttural screams forced themselves out of the creatures throats, their bodies opening up as multiple lacerations found themselves etched across their skin. As the beasts backed away in fear, Havve advanced without emotion. His limbs moved lightning fast, the overwhelming speed nearly impossible for Strive to follow. He could scarcely make out the blade that was held between the robot's graspers, the sharp weapon glistening with the crimson blood he had drawn. If he concentrated hard enough, he could make out the second knife within Havve's grasp, the blade long and most likely meant for skewering its victims. 

The leader of the group growled wretchedly, catapulting herself to the side in an attempt to pinpoint Havve’s blind spot. While the two remaining creatures tried to attack—perhaps more hesitant that before—the leader sent herself flying into the robot’s back, claws unfurled as she prepared to rip apart his exposed exterior. Strive witnessed all of it, hastily coughing up a warning. “Havve! Behind you!” 

Upon hearing the boy's voice, Havve’s head twitched to the side. His scarlet orbs widened when the creature barrelled into him, her hulking weight sending his body crashing to the ground. The three beasts were instantly on him, snapping their teeth and ripping their claws into his metal skin. Once their onyx nails made contact with the cold material, they quickly realized how hard it would be to make a meal out of a robot. 

The sound of their clawing was absolutely dreadful. The scrapping of Havve's exterior sent shrill screams through the air, causing both Strive and the beasts to grimace in discomfort. Frustration swept through the creatures, their fangs doing nothing to penetrate the curious metal. If anything, their fangs were beginning to ache. On top of that, their claws were virtually useless against the robot, only causing more distress as the awful screech assaulted their ears. They could not satisfy their hunger with the metal creature, but a living bystander would do for now.

Strive paled when the leader train her eyes on him again, her dark gaze swamped with pent up rage towards the young traveller. Swallowing his rising panic, he tried to make his escape, only to stumble when his knees buckled from exhaustion. He looked towards Havve, the robot having been pinned beneath the staggering weight of the remaining two creatures. He could see the robot fighting to get back up, his weapons slashing at the forms surrounding him. The creatures would jump back when fresh gashes painted their skin, howling miserably as pain seeped into their bodies. Despite their pain they continued their assault, no doubt serving as a distraction so their leader could finish her job. 

The leader caterwauled, her entire body rigid as she pounced for Strive. It was impossible to ignore the intense fury that radiated off her figure, waves of madness crashing into the Moebian with a staggering potency. He braced himself for impact, snarling back at the creature as he gripped a rock in his trembling palm. He raised his arm up, ready to strike back with his pebbled protection. 

That’s when a certain robot intervened, crimson eyes ablaze with crooked intent. 

The robot quickly stepped between Strive and the creature, selflessly using his body to protect the young traveller. With two of his arms he secured the creature in place, relying on his remaining limbs to keep her steady through her furious fit. She spat viciously, howling in resentment as she snapped her fangs blindly through the air, a nauseating substance drooling from her mouth. Havve’s body rocked precariously as he tried to keep his balance, planting his feet firmly on the ground in order to keep his round body upright. Strive could hear a strained hiss while the robot held his ground, his mechanical muscles exerting some sort of steam throughout his struggle. If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn the drumming within Havve had gotten more intense, his artificial body reacting to the adrenaline that coursed through his non-existence veins; it was as if he was excited, gaining some sort of thrill from his next move. 

With his last free arm, Havve introduced his thin knife, driving it straight into the chest of the wretched creature. He didn’t even flinch when the creature began shaking uncontrollably, a sputtering gasp escaping her lips. She tried to call out to her sisters, only to convulse wildly once blood trickled into her airways. Even though these creatures were pure evil, Strive had to look away, unable to handle the massacre in front of him; he felt his grip loosen on the rock in his palm. If killing them was the only way to ensure the group’s safety, then he had to accept their grim fate.

Havve pulled the blade out of her chest, letting the terrifying beast fall in a puddle of her own blood. The remaining creatures watched in horror as their companion was left to drain on the earth’s surface, her vitals seeping into the parched patches of grass. Taking a heavy step forwards, Havve’s red orbs gleams maliciously while he stared the remaining creatures down, his limbs twirling their weapons as if to challenge the beasts further. For an extra measure of intimidation, the robot began grinding his jagged jaw together, the unpleasant sound enough to make Strive’s skin crawl. The feminine creatures seemed to get the message, lowering their bodies in defeat and skittering into the darkness, leaving their friend to rot on a bloodied patch of foliage. 

With all threats taken care off, Strive felt his limbs give way to tremors as he sunk into the earth, his exhaustion finally taking hold. He was severely roughed up, the pain in his ribs adding even more to his current misery levels. The wound Sung had so graciously patched up was now torn asunder, his soiled bandages hanging loosely off his arm. With each strained breath he took, he coughed up the blood that pooled within his mouth, the discomfort from his broken rib causing him to wheeze harshly; it was difficult to catch his breath. 

As he lay sprawled across the ground, he could scarcely make out Havve’s figure standing over him, his red gaze harsh and unblinking while he observed the injured bundle beneath him. He made no effort to move, remaining idle as he awaited his new commands. Strive couldn’t help but smile, the familiar drumming slowly turning into a sound he found safety in. 

His words were strained, his gratitude coming out in a pained hiss. “Thanks.”

Havve tilted his head slowly, clicking to himself as he came to understand how critical Strive’s broken body really was. The young Moebian was unable to give anymore commands, an overwhelming force seeping its way through the tired cracks of his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, focusing all of his efforts into the vital act of breathing. Despite the disorienting state of his mind, Strive wondered if the rest of the group had finally regained their senses. Perhaps he could make sure they were okay before he passed out.

Suddenly, cool, metallic arms found their way around his figure, the robot showing an uncharacteristic amount of care as he cradled the injured boy. Strive was trying his best to keep up with what was happening. The loud, artificial drumming of Havve’s power source rattled his sensitive ears, making it difficult to detect any other coherent sounds. He could have sworn he heard more voices after a while. How much time had passed was unknown; he felt like he was drifting without a destination. 

He could scarcely hear them. One was full of concern, a panicked screech rising above the rest. The other voice was a lot deeper, gruff on the surface yet harbouring hidden anxieties beneath. The last was not a voice, but the sensation of movement behind Strive’s closed eyes. No matter how hard he tried, the world began fading from his mind, casting him into a merciful, painless darkness. 

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


The world was fuzzy, muffled by exhaustion and a numbing sensation that crept through Strive’s limbs. He could hear different sounds chattering behind his closed eyes, the different tones and volumes fluctuating at confusing rates. It was difficult to keep track of each one. Some were voices, others were textured sounds; fabrics sifting, footsteps stomping, objects sizzling. It was all too much to take in at once. He couldn’t bring himself to stir, desperately searching for the comforting quiet to envelope him once again.

He was disoriented. Time was meaningless in his semi-conscious state. Had it been minutes or hours between each shift in sound? Surrounding sensations only added to his confusion, the light vibrations of careful footsteps shaking his immobile body; they sounded cautious, purposely soft whenever they walked around him. Once and a while he could sense someone near him, their gaze washing over him before leaving him to rest. He couldn’t think of who it might be. He could hardly keep his thoughts on track.

After what seemed like an endless dream, Strive’s consciousness slowly awakened.

The haze that wrapped his mind began to weaken, their thick clouds parting once coherent light made its way through his thoughts. He could hear them now—it was the crew. While he was still unable to process their words, he could hear their individual tones. Voices low and meaningful, they talked amongst one another, the delicate clink of dishware following between conversations. It must be some sort of dinner hour. 

Despite the protest his weary body gave, he attempted to rouse himself out of his motionless state. At first, his eyes refused to give in to his command, remaining tightly shut beneath an exhausted weight. Between the struggle for control, Strive focused on other parts of his body, testing out the movement of his stiff limbs. He could feel his fingers twitching lightly, slowly curling inwards as they grazed the skin of his palm. Raising his arms was a challenge, but doable nonetheless. He began shifting his weight, experimenting with how much new movement his body would allow. As he began his first steps to reawakening, the nearby group hushed themselves, their breaths bated.

Strive slowly opened his eyes, an intense light bombarding his fragile vision. He blinked furiously, the discomfort from the sun instinctively sending his arm upwards to protect his sight. He kept squinting regardless, trying to adjust his eyes to a conscious state. The crew members jumped to their feet, hastily running towards the boy. Although his vision was still blurry, he couldn’t mistake the excited twang to Sung’s voice, his familiar vocals painting a picture to his otherwise smudged figure. “Strive! You’re finally awake!” 

Strive flinched at his loud declaration, his ears twitching back as the harsh noise rattled his mind. It would seem he needed more time to acclimatize himself to different senses. He looked towards the blob above him, their orange clothes slowly sharpening into a refined shape. He kept his eyes narrowed in an attempt to keep his focus, choosing to hone in on the glaring black visor above the doctor's eyes. Speaking of which, those visors were nearly knocked off when Meouch’s burly figure came up behind the doctor, wacking him in the back of the head with an annoyed click of the tongue.

“Tsk, read the room, jackass! Yer insufferable voice nearly blew his brains out.” Meouch sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his claws. “Lord knows how many times ya’ve nearly deafened me.” 

Sung massaged the back of his head, muttering to himself sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I couldn’t help it, I’m just so glad you’re okay! Fully functioning too!” Meouch gave him another swift swat behind the head.

“I told ya he’d be fine. He seems like a tough kid, one that bounces back without any trouble. I never doubted him in the first place.”

“Meouch,” said Sung, skepticism lacing his words. “You were the most anxious of us all. Your hackles were raised for hours! We caught you wandering and checking up on him all through the night. That tough guy act is nothing more than a façade. You’re just one big cuddly kitten!”

“Bah, shaddup!” Meouch flashed his fangs, trying to hide the rosy blush that crept across his muzzle. “I was just checkin’ for more of those crazy women. Sure wouldn’t want them catchin' us off guard again. Damn things nearly had our heads for dinner!”

Ah, so they did remember the monsters. Strive wasn’t sure if they would be able to remember the events of last night. They had been nothing more than hypnotized mummies, bending to the whim of those tricky women. If it hadn’t been for Havve, they all would’ve been torn to shreds. 

“Truth be told, I was glad someone was keeping their eyes open through the night. I could hardly sleep with the thought of those things running rampant through the woods!” Sung looked to the side nervously, pursing his lips in discomfort. “To think we’d come across Screamadonnas so far out . . . I guess they reside in this dimension too.”

“Aye. We should have expected this. Landin’ in such a paradise was bound to have some hidden dangers. How many times has this happened to us now? This has to be the third time, yeah?”

“Hah! It must be. Remember that time when we—”

While Meouch and Sung reminisced about their past adventures—they were truly frightening tales, yet the two men were laughing up a storm!—Strive took a second to get a better understanding of his surroundings. He wasn’t sure how long he was out for, but it must have been well through the night. The sun was blazing overhead, his ship casting a dark shadow above his resting point. It appeared that he had been left to recover on a comfortable blanket beneath his vessel, the downy edges folded over his injured body. His head was elevated against a soft cushion, tiny specks of brown dotting the fabric. When he saw this, he was immediately reminded of his bleeding cheek.

It was certainly sore, stinging whenever he accidentally brushed his tongue against it. Not only that, but the stale taste of blood lingered on his taste buds; quite vile to say the least. All at once, a dull ache found its way through his body as his pain receptors fired up upon his revival. Peeking under his blanket, Strive could see that his arm was patched up again, presumably receiving the same treatment as before. His ribs, however, were a much harder injury to deal with on the surface. 

He gingerly felt his side, wincing when a tender ache reacted to his touch. He could see a soiled bandage beneath his torn shirt, a pale red seeping into the coverings. Taking a closer look, Strive examined his wound further, lifting up the edge of his shirt. The bandages were expertly placed, no doubt by Sung’s steady hand. The wrappings appeared to coil around his torso, keeping a firm pressure on his open wounds. He hadn’t even registered that he was bleeding during the fight. He just thought the injury was internal. No matter, he was grateful that he wasn’t on death's door anymore. 

Strive looked around slowly, nearly jumping out of his skin when he noticed Phobos by his side. Embarrassed, he apologized profusely. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Phobos shrugged, offering a friendly thumbs up for reassurance. Strive smiled at the gesture. “I’m glad you guys are back to normal. I thought you were all going to be killed!” 

Phobos scratched the back of his helmet, looking ashamed of himself. He bobbed his head glumly, gesturing to the boy's wounds. Strive understood his tone, shaking his head quickly. “Don’t feel bad about this. I’m the one who confronted them. I would never let those terrifying creatures hurt you guys! Besides, it’s all done now, right? Havve took care of them.”

Phobos nodded, an invisible weight appearing to lift from his shoulders. Heaving a silent sigh, he watched his companions chatter in the background, seeming amused by their continuous back and forth. Strive was amused too, watching their excited hand gestures whenever they described something beyond his understanding. 

“Say, Phobos?" asked Strive. "What were those things from last night anyways? Sung said they were called Screamadonnas?”

The rocketeer held out his palm, tapping his fist into the open hand. He furled his hands outwards, wiggling his fingers beneath his chin; something to do with their voices. He then brushed back invisible locks of hair, trying to represent an alluring display. Suddenly, he outstretched his arms, swaying back and forth in a mock trance. From this game of elaborate charades, Strive could peace together a basic explanation; his prior experience was definitely a big help as well.

“They’re beautiful creatures that trick people with their voices?” Phobos nodded happily, tapping the tip of his helmet in conformation. Strive was quite pleased with his translation skills. “If they could hypnotize you guys, why not me? I wasn’t affected by their voices at all.” 

“Probably ‘cause yer a young thing,” Meouch’s voice interjected. He and Sung had finished up their talk, turning their attention back to the boy. “That’s my guess, at least. Yer’re the only kid among us and ya weren’t persuaded by them. I’d assume it has somethin' to do with that.”

“Meouch is right. Screamadonnas have only been known to attack adults. Quite the lucky break for you.” Sung pointed his chin towards the ships surrounding them, taking special notice of the inactive robot slumbering beneath. “Not to mention Havve. He told me about the fight soon after we regained our senses. We, uh . . . had some cleaning up to do afterwards.” Strive gulped when he remembered the bloodied carcass that was left to drain from Havve’s attack. Looking over, he could see the same area where her body had been, a fresh pile of dirt covering the stained grass. “He said you put up an impressive fight. Nice going, Strive.”

Phobos and Meouch bobbed their heads in agreement, showering Strive with even more praise. He felt a bashful red tear across his skin, lighting the tips of his ears aflame. “Thanks. But I didn’t really do anything. It was Havve who got the job done. I was just the punching bag.” 

“Ha! And what a punchin' bag ya turned out to be!” Meouch cackled loudly, crouching down so he could pat Strive on the back. His giant paws were a bit too strong, rattling his sore bones. “Resilient and willin' to bounce back. Ya’ve got guts, kid. I respect that.” Strive groaned in discomfort, but he was happy nonetheless. It would seem that Meouch’s skepticism was beginning to loosen, a new found trust slowly filling in the gaps. 

“Knock it off, Meouch!" exclaimed Sung, "You were just going on about me being too loud, and here you are breaking more of his bones!” The feline huffed irritably, taking his paws away so he could sulk with crossed arms. Letting out a sigh, Sung sat on the ground beside Strive, offering him one of his comforting smiles. “So, you’re feeling alright? I hope I was able to address all your wounds. Your ribs will hurt for a bit, but they’ll heal up nicely. Only a small fracture. How convenient!”

It certainly didn’t feel convenient, but he’d just have to trust the doctor’s opinion. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry for taking up all your supplies.”

“Hah! Don’t even worry about that. This is just a regular Thursday with the crew. A little scratch here and there is nothing to fret over. It’s the amputations that you need to be concerned about.” Strive’s eyes went wider than the moon. “But don’t worry about that! I only had to deal with that twice, and none of it was for my crew!” 

Upon hearing this, Strive thought it best not to ask anymore about that incident. For now, he was content to sit still while Sung continued to look him over, checking his form for any more hidden damages.

“Hey, Strive?” hummed Sung.

“Yes?”

“Can you take a look over there for a second, please? I want to test something.” The doctor’s head was down, his gaze focused on examining the wounds for any sign of compromise. He wasn’t looking up, but he still asked for the boy to turn his head. Confused, Strive followed Sung’s outstretched arm and trailed his eyes in the desired direction. He soon realized what the man was pointing at, training his vision on Havve's immobile figure. The robot’s body was rigid, yet his head was upright, his ruby gaze alive and alert as they stared back at him. Strive blinked in surprise; Havve mirrored his actions.

“He’s looking at you, isn’t he?” Strive nodded numbly, the distant thump of Havve’s power source crawling its way into his ears. Sung hummed thoughtfully, brushing his fingers underneath his chin. He seemed worried, perhaps a little unnerved beneath the surface. “Hmm, alright then.” He didn’t elaborate any further, lifting himself up with his usual upbeat energy. “I’m going to grab you something for lunch and then we’ll be off!”

Be off? What was he talking about? “But . . . where are we going?”

“Where? We’re going to get off this crazy planet! Eat your food and pack up your things; you’re coming along for the adventure of a lifetime!”

  
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**(2020/12/19) You've done it again, Nex! Stunning work! I was in awe when you drew the first interpretation of the Screamadonnas. To see an expressive character sheet is astounding! So much character you've captured in this creature—Bravo! :^)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for us to take to the stars once again! Thanks for reading thus far. Feel free to leave a kudos, a constructive comment, or any thoughts you may have! I love having little chats with you guys; thanks again for taking a look! :)


	10. Cartographic Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the group takes to the open skies, Strive begins to learn more about the inner-workings of the cosmos. Sung has proven to be quite knowledgeable, but perhaps there's more to him than meets the eye. Everyone has a past, some more haunting than the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/10/17) Image by the amazing [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/66067639#workskin) **  
> **  
> **  
> **Psst, read to the end of this chapter for a bonus picture by Nexeliam! :^)**

Leaving the planet had been one of the last things on Strive’s mind. But he supposed it was something he had to think about eventually, especially if he ever wanted to explore the cosmos further. It would have been great if his solution had been on this one planet, but he knew this was a naïve thought. He would have to do a lot more searching if he was serious about locating their missing stars.

As for packing his things—what he had with him was a laughable amount. Besides the disheveled clothes on his body and his mysterious vessel, Strive had next to nothing in terms of personal belongings. Not to mention his could simply hide his vessel within his core, the ethereal display still quite startling for the crew to witness. 

When he ran his fingers over the stark white vessel it began to envelope itself in a blinding light, twisting into a smaller, organic form that swivelled between his fingertips. It was still a new concept for him, and yet he could read the silent cues he was given, gently placing the ball of energy against his radiant core. Like the events of the past, the vessel phased into his chest, giving off one last pulse of light before settling itself into its resting place. Interestingly, it felt as if his tender wounds were beginning to relax, the vessel having calmed the persistent pain throughout his body. While he was definitely still sore, the pain had been greatly reduced; he'd consult Sung about this discovery later. With a small pat to his core, Strive made his way back towards the crew.

Sung gathered his companions in a tight circle, using Havve’s multiple arms as a frame to hold up a transparent map. The boy's eyes widened when the doctor moved his fingers across the surface, changing the contents with a simple flick and twist of his wrist. More amazing was how Sung seemed to grab the intangible map, handing out copies of the ghost-like projection to the remaining crew members; Havve snaked his free graspers near their leader, motioning for a copy of his own.

Once the maps were distributed, Sung’s face lit up when he noticed that Strive had joined them. “There you are. I just handed out the directions for the trip. Here,” the doctor held out his own map, fanning his fingers as he separated the transparent sheet into two distinct objects. “This is your copy!” He flung the strange slate towards the young traveller. The apparently not-so-intangible object collided with his unsteady hands, kicking up a cloud of dust when it toppled to the ground. Meouch let out a snicker, earning himself an elbow to the ribs by an annoyed Phobos.

Strive stammered out an apology. “Sorry. I didn’t know how I was supposed to catch it.” 

He reached down for the slate, carefully running his fingers over the flat object. He was surprised by how solid it felt, fully expecting the thin device to phase through his hands. He held it up, tilting his head to the side in confusion. It was definitely a map, but not one he had ever seen before. Symbols blipped and rapidly changed against the slate, a crude and elaborate diagram drawn across the surface. With great caution, Strive tapped the transparent surface, nearly dropping the map when the image suddenly changed. He could hear Sung laugh in amusement, the doctor seeming overjoyed by the boy's budding curiosity.

“That kind of reaction really brings me back. It’s not everyday when you encounter someone who’s so amazed by our simple technology.” His voice held a fond lift. He then raised his map, gesturing with his free hand. “See that dot near the bottom right corner? Pinch your fingers between the slate; it’ll close the entire program.”

Trailing his eyes over the map, Strive could see the button Sung was referring to. He applied a light amount of pressure, pinching his thumb and index finger against the slate. The map suddenly dissolved, crackling midair as the slate shattered out of existence. With the slab destroyed, he felt a noticeable weight between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, surprised to find a slim, black stick between his fingers. He brought it close to his face, examining all of its angles, running his thumb over the single black groove on the surface. 

“Amazing!” he exclaimed, carefully observing every aspect the small stick had. “I’ve only seen paper maps before. Never ghost ones!”

Sung chuckled and closed his own map. “That’s one way to think of it. Not really a ‘ghost’ per say, but a solid hologram; affectionately called a soligram. Even though it looks transparent, you can touch it for convenience's sake. Everything else is malleable—maps, diagrams, coordinates, page duplicates—but the temporary platform makes it pretty user friendly, even for those who have never worked with one.” He placed the compressed map into his side pocket. “I’ll tell you all about it on our way out. By the time we get to our destination, you’ll be able to handle the basics.”

Strive nodded, taking the soligram and placing it within the inner pockets of his boots. He didn’t even think of bringing a bag with him on his impromptu journey. As result of his haste, he was forced to rely on what little storage space he possessed. Thankfully, he had his sneaky workarounds. The hidden pockets were quite convenient for keeping small valuables close, an addition he implemented himself. One never knew when they needed to keep something nearby.

“Now then,” Sung motioned for all his crew members to listen, “we all know the plan, yes?” Everyone nodded except for Strive, the boy still out of the loop on most things the adults discussed. “I’ll be taking Strive aboard my ship so I can give him a much needed crash course on his new environment. Like always, I’ll be taking the lead of travel. Phobos and Meouch, you’ll be stationed by the sides with Havve guarding our flanks. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, Strive included. He recalled how Sung had insisted that he travel on his ship after expressing some concerns regarding his flying abilities, especially now since he had even more injuries than their initial encounter. If he struggled to fly with an injured arm, the additional trauma to his ribs would spell trouble. Until they knew more about how his vessel worked, it was best if he took it easy for a while—at least until a controlled testing environment was possible. 

With all things in order, the crew made their way towards their respective ships, entering through the platforms that lowered to the ground. Unlike Strive’s vessel, the crew had ships with designated points of entry; as far as he could tell, his own ship lacked any solid point. It was uniquely organic.

As Strive watched the others disappear into their ships, Sung placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, kid. Let’s hit the road.” He motioned for him to follow, inviting him to walk up the metallic ramp of his ship. It was a little nerve racking, but Strive persevered, cautiously walking up the yellow platform with Sung by his side. “Now, it’s not much to brag about, but it’s definitely one of the more cozier ships among my crew. Hopefully you find it to your liking.”

Strive placed a hesitant foot forward, looking around with wide eyes once he beheld the strange interior. His vision was greedy, sweeping across the hull with a hungry curiosity. Unlike the simple plainness of his own vessel, Sung had a much more elaborate set up going for him. The edges of the interior were lined with multiple different keys, each placed neatly beside one another in a unified rectangle; they wrapped around the hull, meeting near the colourful, central control panel. Sitting proudly in the middle was an angular chair, the backing raised high above the controls—much like Sung’s odd head piece. 

A persistent yellow hue hummed throughout the ship, gently wrapping its warm glow around Strive’s azure skin. It was very interesting, beautiful even. With everything basked in a golden light, it was quite the reflection on Sung’s positive attitude; it was difficult to feel blue in such an optimistic ship.

The man took his seat, cracking his knuckles in an exaggerated fashion. He let out an amused huff, flashing Strive a hearty grin. “So, what do you think? Pretty cool, right?”

“It’s more than cool . . . it’s astounding!” Strive trailed his eyes around the back of the ship, the extra extension available now that the platform had closed behind them. He immediately noticed the pile of objects crowded near the rear, each one placed in a specific spot, carefully arranged for one purpose or another. “Is all of this yours?”

“Yeah! I like to collect things during our travels. Whenever we go on long trips like this recent one, I like to bring back a souvenir or two. That reminds me,” he rustled through one of his pockets, pulling out a jagged, ivory spike. “Toss this in the nearby drawer, will you? The one beside that antique table.” He threw the spike towards Strive, clicking his tongue approvingly when he managed to catch it. 

Strive rolled the object between his fingers. “What is it?”

“It’s one of the Screamadonna’s fangs, courtesy of Havve and his . . . force.”

The object sent shivers through Strive’s palm, a cold sweat rolling down his back once he realized what he was holding. Fighting the urge to flick it away, he willed himself to carry it to the designated drawer, pushing down the disgust that pooled within his stomach. He quickly shuffled through the numerous objects lining the floor, hastily depositing the fang into the suggested case. There were other things there too: multi coloured rocks, withered flowers, various bits and bobs of unknown origin—it was a cluttered mess!

Sensing the boy’s surprise, Sung chuckled sheepishly, trying to distract himself from the embarrassment with his current task. “Yeah, I haven’t had the time to clean out the ship. Those have probably been there for a year or two.” 

Judging by the dust that puffed upwards, Strive assumed the time frame was longer than that. 

“Any who, enough about me and my accidental hoarding habits—make yourself comfy! And by comfy I mean secure and seated. You’ll be in for a bumpy ride if you don’t anchor down now.” 

The entire ship was beginning to vibrate, rocking its passengers back and forth as it rose into the air. Unsure of where to sit, Strive threw himself to Sung’s chair, hanging onto the armrest for support. The doctor cackled humorously, pointing beside him with a grin. “One step ahead of you, kid. I’ve got a seat below your feet. Just step out of the way for one quick second.”

True to his words, a chair soon materialized in front of the boy, the furniture having ascended from the quaking floor. It was similar in shape to the pilot’s chair, though noticeably shorter in height. Thankful to have a stable spot to sit, Strive quickly sunk into the chair, his hands grasping the armrests rather tightly. He noticed a strap hanging loosely to the side; he swiftly grabbed the belt, fastening himself into the shuddering chair without a moment to lose. 

The ship propelled itself into the air, whipping up a cloud of dust once its thrusters awakened in a burst of white light. The entire vessel rattled loudly, scrambling Strive’s mind as he tried to remain focused. This mechanical ship wasn’t as graceful as his own vessel, lacking any sort of serene composure. His core flashed wildly when they travelled further into the stratosphere, the increased vibrations and troubling sounds causing him to fear the worst. Was this normal? Or were they about to crash and burn? Judging by the calm expression Sung possessed, perhaps they weren’t in immediate danger after all.

“Watch carefully, kid. You’ll definitely recognize this move.” Sung had a wild grin, his hand held tightly around a large lever. He pressed a few buttons to the side, twitching his fingers over the keys with practiced precision. Each key gave off its own sound, harmonizing with his touch to create a functional song. A tune of confirmation rang through the hull, prompting the lever to glow a vibrant amber. “Let the light show commence!”

Sung pulled back the lever, catapulting the ship into a prismatic tunnel. The force was enough to keep Strive halted in his seat, his body unable to move against the intense pressure. As they continued to rocket through the gateway, he felt himself accommodate to the force after several seconds. He flicked his gaze around the tunnel, excitement flooding his core when he beheld the colourful sea once more. No matter how many times he sailed through the vibrant waves, it was still an immensely thrilling sight. “The colour tunnel!”

“Pfft! Colour tunnel—now that’s cute, kid! We noticed that your ship used this form of travel when we first encountered you. I’m guessing you have no idea what this actually is?” 

Strive shook his head, still engrossed in the beautiful tendrils. “It’s how I first left my planet; a bridge of intense light. I somehow managed to trigger it again when I tried to get away from you guys.”

“Ha! You’re just full of surprises, kid. Also, you’re not that far off in your observations either. This type of travel is known as the Bridge. Like the name implies, we use this to cross over to another location.” As he spoke, the tight knots of colour began to snap apart, making way for the deeper tones of the abysmal cosmos. “It’s a standard way to travel throughout the galaxy, making it convenient for folks to get around the Wastelands. Without the Bridge, we’d be subjected to endless years of dull debris fields before we ever came close to our destination. Imagine the place where we found you; that’s all you’d see for years! Nothing but boring rocks and rusted shreds!” 

Strive understood what Sung was saying, picturing the Bridge as a means to an unreachable platform. “It’s like a shortcut?”

“Exactly! See, the cosmos is full of shortcuts. Without them, we’d all go mad through our travels. If it weren’t for the Bridge, there wouldn’t be any colonizes outside of a common lifespan. Species have learned to adapt to the demands of the Bridge, utilizing its power as a means of survival. Trust me, kid. Although the cosmos may seem like an empty abyss, there are billions of living things beyond the debris. You just have to find them.” 

Billions of living things? Just how big was the world beyond his own?

“How far have we gone?" asked Strive. The Bridge had almost finished collapsing, its renegade wisps lingering near the edge of the ship. It was only a matter of seconds before the passage closed behind them, leaving them alone in another empty field. 

“Distance, eh? Well then, why don’t you take a look at your soligram? This’ll be the perfect time to teach you the basics of navigation. Who knows, maybe you’ll take a liking to it! It’d be nice to have another member who possesses some sort of graphicacy.” Now that they were out of the Bridge, it was easy for the two of them to move on their own. Strive took the soligram out of his boot and slid his thumb over the small groove, causing the map to materialize in front of him. The diagram was different this time, perhaps even more confusing than its first appearance. 

He took note of a small dot on the screen, the marker flashing steadily. “Is that us?”

“Yeah. And if you look over here—” Sung brushed his fingers against the screen, pulling up a separate, holographic image. He pointed to a spherical shape, the image slowly rotating as it displayed its exterior; there were two moons revolving around the circle. “That’s the planet we were just on. Notice the numbers near the side? That will tell you how far we've travelled from our last destination. Just so you know, no one can read your copy. It’s designed to imprint on its user’s specific linguistic qualities. That’s why we all have our separate copies. It lets us understand the same thing, just different symbols.”

“Something like the Lexicomm?”

“Kind of. The Lexicomm is a simple tool to use since sound can be easily manipulated. Written language is a little more tricky to decipher. With so many obscure symbols throughout the galaxy, it’s incredibly difficult to gather all those symbols at once and create a real time translation for us to read. There have been some tests, but it’s proven too much for most minds to handle. It could fry your brains in a minute! Sound is a lot more gentle on the senses, I guess.” Sung shrugged. “To compensate, most devices react to a being’s biological qualities, creating language based on their existing skills instead. It’s very handy for sensitive information, something along the lines of encryption. You’ll understand what's written, but a passerby will have no clue what’s on the page. Privacy at its finest.” 

“Does that mean everyone has a unique language? One that can’t be understood?”

“Nah, we can all learn to decipher different languages if we take the time. Truth be told, the cosmos is full of secretive folks, ones who don’t enjoy sharing their personal information with shady travellers. Most see no need to learn a language when the Lexicomm does all the work for you. It’s rare to come across those who are fluent both visually and auditorily. Personally, I’m one for picking up new challenges.” Sung looked over Strive’s map, pointing to a particular number. “Now then, see that value? It's telling us who far we've travelled. Looks to be about three light years of distance! Not that far, really. You travelled five light years when you escaped us the first time.”

Strive looked at his soligram, blinking rapidly as he tried to understand that immense measure of distance. “How far is that exactly?”

Sung chuckled, flicking his wrist to reveal a second value beneath the first. “It says here that it’s about . . . twenty-seven trillion kilometres? How’s that for a shortcut!”

Strive was swept off his feet by sudden nausea, the values almost sickening to hear. He was _that_ far from home? He was practically in another world by this point! “We’re that far out?! I didn’t know the Bridge could do that!” 

“I know, isn’t it great? Travel in the blink of an eye! But don't get carried away with the distance; the Bridge can take quite the toll on a ship's engine if we travel too much. As a ground rule, it's best not to go over 20 light-years at a time if you want to conserve power. Most ships will need some sort of cool down time before they can make a full jump again. Nothing worse than having an over-saturated engine. Don't even get Phobos started on the tedious repair process . . . 

"The Bridge can do so much more than that. With the right tools, you could find yourself in another dimension—another time period too! Or it could simply happen by accident. I tell you, my time in the First Dimension's past was pretty cool. They definitely knew how to party. One of these days I’ll bring the crew there to unwind. I think they’d appreciate the rocking vibes. But enough about that!” Sung pinched the second hologram, causing the diagram to shatter midair. “Take a look at your main map. Soon you’ll see some dots appearing behind my ship; that’ll be the rest of the crew. Sometimes it takes a bit of time for all of us to arrive on the same field. Ah, looks like Meouch will be the first to show up.” 

While the doctor led Strive through the basics of his slate, a curious thought began prodding at the back of his mind. “How come you can read my map? Didn't you say that the writing was unique to my own language?” 

Sung paused, lingering his finger over the data he was discussing. “Like I said, I’m one for taking up new challenges whenever I can. I’ve had enough time to familiarize myself with my crew’s native languages throughout our travels. I wouldn’t be a good captain if I didn’t go above and beyond in order to educate myself.”

That part made sense, but there were still some gaps in the man's reasoning. “But you’ve only just met me. Why can you read my writing?” 

“That’s—I was the one to add the language. It’s a fairly recent addition, so I figured I’d learn it in my spare time. It’s uncommon for new languages to be implemented into the system, so I guess it just caught my eye.” Sung seemed distant, lost in another plain of existence. “Things happen. I know more as a result of it.” 

Strive had no idea what he was talking about, furrowing his eyebrows as concern began to build within his core. The man seemed distressed, his signature smile replaced with tightly pursed lips; he tapped his finger against the soligram, sifting through different pages without much care. “Sung, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—” His attention jumped towards a persistent tone, a star insignia appearing on his ship’s viewing window. “—doing great! The crew must have arrived while we were distracted. My old mind can get quite muddled from time to time. That’s the price you pay for holding so much knowledge in one noggin. Such are the perks of being an intergalactic intellectual such as myself.” Sung reeled back in his chair, boisterously tapping one of the keys to his side. “Meouch! What news do you bring me?”

The feline’s fuzzy maw flashed onto the ship's window, positioning him directly in their line of sight. “Nothin’ to report, Sung. Just yer average Bridge travel. How’d the kid hold up?”

Strive waved to the beastie, curious to see if he could detect him from where he was sitting. “I’m fine, thanks. It was really beautiful to watch.”

“Ha! Such an innocent lad we managed to pick up. It’s sickly sweet—in a tolerable way, mind ya.” Meouch turned his head, making direct eye contact with Strive. “I assume Sung already gave ya a brief rundown of the whole process?” Strive nodded, pleased with the new information he was given. He felt a little less foolish now that he understood some of their universal terms. “Good. I’m not one to teach any newcomers. Don’t have a lick of patience for such things.”

“Thanks for the report, cool cat!” Sung beamed, tapping a few of the keys near his side. “I noticed Havve just arrived as well. All good on your end, buddy?” Havve’s metallic features blipped into existence beside Meouch, his ruby orbs brilliant and alert. His body crackled and creaked, his graspers coming into view to give a quick thumbs up. “Nice to hear. Now we just have to wait for Phibbis.”

Strive took his eyes away from the screen, focusing on the last remaining point as he waited for it to solidify. The dot soon became stable, a persistent glow against the transparent map. “Phobos just arrived!”

No sooner had he spoken did a certain rocketeer appear on the screen, his goldenrod image placed below the other two. “The silent wonder himself!” cooed Meouch, rolling his eyes to the side. “'Bout time ya showed up. Yer’e even more late than last time.”

Strive expected a detailed motion to flow from the man, expressing his displeasure with Meouch’s rudeness. Instead, it was a shock to hear a digitized voice, one composed of rapid-fire clicks and taps. This must have been what the rocketeer was referring to earlier. He wasn’t actually speaking, just expressing his language through artificial means. Unlike the physical taps Phobos had created through the ground, this version was much cleaner. Sharper in delivery and overall tone. 

“ _I wasn’t even a minute late! If I didn’t spend all my spare time upgrading your ships, I would’ve had time to fix my own. I could downgrade you in a heartbeat if I wanted to._ ”

“Bah, whatever! It’s not my fault yer ship’s a literal pile of shit! No one’s forcin’ ya to upgrade our ships all the time. So don’t be usin' that as an excuse for yer lateness!”

“ _When we get back home, I’m downgrading you to a cardboard box._ ”

Meouch’s hackles rose with irritation. “Fat chance, mufflehead. I’ll claw ya in half before y'even think of messin’ with my ship!”

Phobos crossed his arms on the screen, flashing a single finger to the monitor. “ _Bite me, fuzzball._ ”

“Gladly! Ya haughty, infuriatin’ little—”

“Alrighty! That’s enough out of you two!” interjected Sung, rubbing his temple in embarrassment. “ Remember, we’ve got a minor with us; pleasant language all around. Keep that up and I’ll mute you both.” 

Meouch scoffed, bearing his fangs as he tried to keep his temper in check. “Not like that would do anythin’ for Phobos. The guy lives his life like a game of charades.” 

“Then I’ll block his screen, simple as that. Now then—let’s get back on track, shall we?” After a quick apology from Phobos and a gruff exhale by Meouch, Sung was able to anchor the conversation back to its roots. “There’s no point in taking the Bridge when we’re so close to Headquarters. Let’s take the time to have a relaxing sail home, alright? It’s been a long journey, so we could all benefit from a little downtime. Sound good?”

Everyone gave their unique confirmations, separated by snarls, thumbs-up or a mixture of both. One by one, the crew disappeared from the screen with a digital sigh. Peace and quiet found its way through the doctor's ship.

Sung let out a gust of air, crumpling back into his chair once his window was clear of any distractions. “I tell you, kid. Sometimes it feels like I’m constantly babysitting those two. Everything’s a fight with them. And if it’s not, they’ll make it one! It’s rare to see them act civil around one another. Phobos is quite gentle in nature, always level-headed and wise beyond his years. Yet when you introduce Meouch into the mix . . .” Sung made an explosion sound, motioning the blast as if it came from his hands. “The guy loses his cool! No matter how long they’ve travelled together, they still see each other as bitter rivals. They’re like bickering siblings!”

Throughout his monologue, Strive noticed that Sung had been pushing various buttons, each one appearing to have a specific use. When he was done pressing his keys, the captain stood up, stretching his arms behind his back with an audible snap. The boy tilted his head in confusion. “Don’t you need to pilot the ship?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine for the remainder of the trip. It’s a simple route to Headquarters; autopilot will take care of it. I wonder if your ship has that function? Well, I guess we’ll find out when we reach our destination. In the meantime, I should probably make you more presentable. Everyone always gets concerned when we bring back a disheveled traveller. Especially since you’re just a kid. They’ll think you’re on death’s door looking like that!”

Strive looked down at his attire, fully aware of how bruised and bloodied he looked. His shirt had been torn in a claw-like motion, revealing the blood-soaked bandages around his torso. His black sleeves were hardly intact, his injured arm completely exposed without an inch of fabric above it. His burgundy cloak was torn down the middle, though he didn’t mind this damage as much as the rest of his clothes. Admittedly, it was a lot easier to move in a cloak that was split down the back, the new tear holding promise for extra mobility. Perhaps he’d keep this fortunate addition.

“Sorry, I don’t have any extra clothes with me. I hadn’t thought that far ahead when I left.”

Sung shrugged, bouncing to the back of the ship with a spring to his step. “Not to worry, kid! I told you that I collect things throughout my travels. It so happens that clothes are one of my interests! I’ll have something the suits your needs.” He approached a large brown chest in the back, lifting up the ancient lid with a small grunt. “Feel free to take a look. I’m not picky with what I take, so there’s probably something in your size. If it looks cool, I take it as a souvenir!”

Curiosity took hold, beckoning the boy to sift through the numerous garments in the chest. The crate had an odd scent, something akin to an old musk. Unfortunately, this meant that the entire wardrobe was tainted with a suffocating thickness, causing him to wrinkle his nose in displeasure. It wasn’t the greatest, but it would have to do for the time being. 

He pulled out multiple shirts, some of which were large enough to be considered a blanket. He huffed in amusement, discarding them to the side as he kept the acceptable options close by. Some were scratchy while others were practically transparent, the latter sifting through his fingers like fine silk. There were shirts with elaborate designs, multiple arm slots, ghastly patches, and some that were beyond plain. While he would have preferred to wear a simple shirt, his options were almost always too large, rough or made up of an irritating material. Seeing a lack of options, Sung took it upon himself to sift through other chests, throwing the rejected garments to the side when he knew they wouldn’t be an appropriate fit.

Strive felt like he had been looking for hours, each new design assaulting his eyes with either brilliant patterns or somber plainness. He wasn’t much of a fashion expert, but he could tell that Sung’s sense was a little far-fetched to begin with. Not to say his choices were ugly, just . . . unusual.

After endless searching, he finally settled on an acceptable shirt. It was a bit oversized, but it would be perfect for a little while. Once he found his fit, he called the doctor over, presenting his choice with an air of satisfaction. “Is this fine?”

Sung’s face lit up once he recognized the shirt. “Oh man, good choice! I forgot I brought that shirt back with me. I tell you, the First Dimension has some pretty nifty souvenirs. Just another reason why it’s one of my top places to visit! Even if it was just an accident, I ended up leaving that world with so many fond memories.”

The shirt in question was all black, allowing for some sort of normality to Strive’s destroyed attire. The only thing different about this piece of clothing was the grey design smudged across the front, a faint outline of different colours lining the incoherent blobs. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a name, though one I can’t remember what it was called.” Sung stroked his moustache in deep thought, trying to remember the exact context of the shirt; this gave Strive some time to switch clothes without him noticing. “Something about _Discovery_ I think? I remember an inhabitant of that planet told me the name; they were super excited about the event and said that my attire was pretty in tune with the show. I can’t remember the specifics, but it was a fascinating event. The musicians looked like they were from a time beyond their own!” Sung shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “Hey! That looks pretty good on you. If you want, you can keep that shirt for later. It may take a while for the seamstress to whip up another copy of your attire anyhow.”

Looking down, Strive shrugged in indifference. “It doesn’t really matter to me so long as I have something to wear.” He tugged at the collar of the shirt, feeling a little claustrophobic underneath the new style. His core flashed beneath the black fabric, silently begging for a chance to escape the confines of the foreign material. “I’ll probably give this back when I’m done, though.”

“Fair enough. Everyone’s got their own signature look. I’ll make sure our seamstress keeps it faithful to your original clothing when she patches up the remains. Her eye for design is incredible!” 

There were more people besides the crew? Now that he thought about it, he had no idea where they were even going! If he didn’t ask questions now, his momentary lead would soon be lost among the barrage of new information. “Where exactly are we going again? I know we’re headed somewhere, but I still don’t know why it’s our destination.”

“We’re going back to Headquarters! My crew and I have been out on a mission for a few months now. We were supposed to report back in a couple of days, but I figured it would be best if we retired a little early. Seeing as we didn’t find our targets, it’s safe to say we can head back home to the others. Not only that, but I think it’s pretty important to bring you somewhere safe before we drag you into any more trouble. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by you.” Sung gave him a once over, crossing his arms as he thought about the entire situation. “I think you’re a unique case, one that could prove incredibly vital in our fight. You’ve got a goal, one that’s similar to ours. In this battle, we could use all the help we can get our hands on—even lost travellers like yourself.”

Strive’s feathered ears lowered as he looked away with a guilty scowl, embarrassed that he unintentionally distracted the crew from their task. “I’m sorry for taking you guys away from your mission. That doesn’t seem like a very helpful thing for me to do.”

“Don’t worry about that, kid. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to us in months! We were driving ourselves crazy sifting through countless Graveyards, coming back with nothing every time. At least now we have something new to bring back.”

Sung’s tone was positive, lacking any sort of sarcasm. It seemed like he really wanted Strive to come along. He wasn’t just a burden after all. “You keep mentioning a target. What exactly were you guys looking for in those fields?”

“Ah, well . . . we were looking for lone Void ships, the ones that scavenge the open cosmos.” Strive felt his breath hitch at the mention of those hideous prisms, their black exteriors swallowing every inch of his thoughts. “They’ve been known to scour the galaxy, scanning for any remaining starlight they have yet to claim. By destroying the loners, we’re able to stop them from regrouping, potentially saving a far off planet from extinction.

“They’re like pests, an infestation when they group together. All it takes is a single drone to alert their companions, guiding them to their next feast. We can pick off a few at a time, but an entire hoard?” Sung scoffed bitterly, balling his hands into a tight fist. “An entire hoard will wipe you out in a second, taking the lives of all those you hold close. They’re ruthless, nothing more than life sapping demons. They’ll take the ones you care about and tear them apart, leaving them to rot in the empty abyss. Count yourself lucky if you manage to escape. Or don’t. It’s hard to live with the constant reminder of your cowardly actions.”

Anger, pain, and overwhelming sadness. These emotions crashed into the boy without remorse, threatening to push him to the ground beneath his feet. The bitterness laced in Sung’s words was sickening, horrifying to even imagine. The way he spoke was incredibly genuine, leading Strive to believe he was talking more from experience than abstract thought. The doctor’s despair was unnerving, especially when Strive thought back to their first encounter. “You were going to make Havve kill me, weren’t you? You thought I was one of those Void ships.”

Sung looked up, guilt washing over his features. “Yes, I had originally told him to destroy you; my wishes were for it to be as ruthless as possible. I directed him to kill anything without a signal. Void ships don’t have a registered marker, making them easy to distinguish from proper ships. Unfortunately for you, that meant you were a target the moment you made a Bridge to the Graveyard.” The doctor covered his mouth, his complexion seeming rather pale. “If I hadn’t stepped in when I did, Havve would have killed you. _I_ would have killed you. If not by my two hands, then by my own vengeful intentions carried out through my companion.”

Strive was quiet for a while, his core throbbing painfully from the grim discovery. If things hadn’t been resolved the way they were, the young traveller would’ve been dead, his silent oath ripped away by the clutches of an early demise. While he initially felt scared of Havve after their first encounter, he slowly came to realize that his unease was directed towards the wrong being. After learning about Sung’s ghastly intentions behind the attack, perhaps Strive was meant to fear him instead. 

Of course, Sung had every right to aim an attack towards his vessel. Now that the doctor has come clean about the origin of the assault, Strive was reluctant to tell the rest of his story. The crew was well aware that his vessel had crashed into his planet, yet they didn’t know the crucial detail that was left behind:

What had crashed into his planet was a lone Void ship, the very same creature that terrorized the vast cosmos. The same demon that took away the lives of countless innocent beings. The same abomination that caused Sung so much pain in his past. It was all here, resting peacefully within the confines of his blazing core. 

Worst of all, he had willingly accepted the vessel even after seeing its true form. The connection he had felt was too strong to ignore, the invisible force pulling him into the mysterious creature's grasp. The Void ships were undeniably evil, so what did that make him? What was his true purpose in the fight for the stars? 

Would he be a bringer of hope, or the messenger of death? 

In his silent struggle, he hardly noticed Sung walking around the ship, the man having placed his hands behind his back in convoluted thought. The two of them were occupied by their own thinking, each one delving into their hidden demons. One had tried to kill, the other was beginning to wonder if he should have done it. 

The air was thick for a while, hot with guilt and complex dread. “Strive,” croaked Sung, breaking the uneasy silence that shrouded the two travellers. “I regret what I did in the past, and for that I’m incredibly sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.” He repeated his apology once more, seeming to address no one in particular. “But I like to look at the positive side of things, even when the situation calls for none. True, I almost caused your death, but the good news is that it didn’t even happen! You’re here now, together in one piece—mostly.” 

Strive let out a small laugh, appreciating the blunt honesty the man provided. It was true; he was still breathing, having survived not one, but _two_ near death experiences, all in the span of a few nerve wracking cycles. Plus, since he was alive and mostly well, he had the chance to get to know the other crew members, including their unique quirks. Even more amazing was the fact that they shared the same goal: bringing back their treasured starlight! If Sung hadn’t implemented that destroy protocol, they never would have encountered one another. 

“I guess this would be considered a necessary evil?” the boy mused.

Sung’s face lit up, touched by Strive’s level-headed acceptance. “Yes, I think it really was! So you’re okay with everything? Obviously I won’t send another kill command on you ever again; I’d swear on my core if I had one.”

Strive scoffed, his previous fear quickly fizzling away. “Yeah, we’re good. I mean, everything turned out for the best, right? I was a little freaked out when you told me, but it’s not your fault at all. Given the circumstances, I can understand your reasoning behind the attack. You were trying to protect the beings you care about and I respect that.” Strive balled his hand into a fist, holding it up high for Sung to see. “I’d be honored if you’d let me continue my journey by the crew’s side. I may be new to the cosmos, but I’ll try my hardest to be a guiding light towards peace!” 

Sung stood idly, seeming rattled by Strive’s speech. He felt an embarrassed blush crawl across his face. “S-sorry, was that too cheesy? I can sound tougher if you want! Like, uh . . . I’ll rip those Void demons to shreds with my bare hands! Or, maybe I’ll, um—”

The doctor quickly interrupted. “No, no, your speech was fine! Heroic! Driven by your pure ideals! Loving the enthusiasm, kid. You just reminded me of someone when you spoke. Someone I haven’t thought about for a while.” He shook his head, crushing his own palm into a sturdy fist; he bent to Strive’s invitation, tapping his fist against the boy’s blue skin. “As for that ‘tough’ talk, I’d stick to what you know. You’ve got some serious heart, and I know for a fact that you don’t have a single vicious bone in your body. A kid like you doesn’t need any fancy weapons. You’ll find a better way.”

“You think so?”

“Oh for sure! In your case it'll probably be verbal, but it’s definitely a start!” Strive whined in protest when Sung ruffled his downy hair, shuffling his white locks with the lightly coloured ones. “You’re too soft to be violent, but that’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes all you need is to kill them with kindness. It’s not what you are, but who you choose to become. Remember that, Strive.”

Clutching his core beneath the restrictive fabric, Strive nodded slowly, taking the doctor's words and cherishing their importance. It felt like he was talking through him, his sincere words hitting strangely close to his fluttering core. He was housing a dangerous entity, but it didn’t have to be seen that way. The past shouldn’t define his vessel, nor its current intentions. Keeping close to Sung’s morals, it was best to find the positive in a negative situation. 

His vessel had a past, but it also held a future. _His_ future, and he was determined to utilize it to its fullest potential. No matter the challenges he faced, he would take this chance to rise above the darkness, creating a brand new light for those to follow. 

These thoughts carried through his mind for the remainder of the trip, keeping him motivated as they approached an incoming vessel. No, not a vessel, but an entire fortress suspended within space. Judging by the relief that Sung exuded, Strive could tell that this was the destination the man had been talking about. After adjusting to one adventure, it was time for him to accommodate to another. He came to realize that this was just the beginning of his lengthy adventures, a mere stepping stone towards the unforeseen future he and the crew were meant to embark on. 

**BONUS IMAGE! So great! Thank you, Nexeliam!**


	11. Welcome to the Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they've reached Headquarters, Strive begins to familiarize himself with his strange surroundings, learning to interact with the even stranger beings around him. It'll take some time before this place feels like home, but it's certainly possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/10/26) Image by our generous [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/66469300#workskin) **
> 
> **Bonus image at the end of this chapter! Thank you, Nexeliam!**

“Don’t worry, kid. They’ll love you!”

Sung’s words did little to sooth the growing anxiety within Strive’s core as they approached the incredible ship, their own vessel dwarfed in comparison to its immense stature. The best thing he could compare it to was a mountain floating in mid air, a gaping wound beckoning for them to enter. It was a surprise that the interior looked even bigger than the exterior, the metal walls scaling high above the landing platform. The loading dock they landed on stretched wide into the distance, allowing enough room for the other crew members once they arrived from behind. Strive looked around the foreign environment in amazement, taking in all the strange lights, sounds and surrounding figures that muddled around the machines. 

After waiting a few moments for the shipyard to stabilize—Sung had mentioned something about bringing the oxygen levels back to normal—the doctor’s ship hissed loudly, a gust of compressed air whistling through the hull when he lowered the entrance. The platform hit the ground with an audible 'thunk' and echoed throughout the hollow area. When Sung walked forwards, the boy felt hesitant. He had just developed some trust with the crew members, but what of the other beings in this fortress? Were they to be trusted too?

The doctor looked back once he realised he was missing his passenger. “Kid? You’re coming, right?” Strive grimaced, trying to hide his uncertainty. “Don’t worry, you’ll be staying close to us for the time being. I wouldn’t leave you with some random maintenance member. We’ll all take the time to introduce you slowly, alright?”

Sung’s words were careful, but no doubt full of sincerity. Despite the hesitance in Strive's core, he felt himself loosen his guard as the doctor’s words coaxed him towards the platform. The amount of trust he put in the man was surprising, but it definitely felt like the right choice. Although there were a few misunderstandings at first, those could easily be put in the past. After all, everything seemed to work out regardless of how they got there. Sung was a good guy; the crew was nice too. 

Strive dared to place his boot on the strange ground, pushing himself forwards in order to match his pace with Sung. The coned individual quickly walked to the surrounding ships, joyously waving his arms when he saw Phobos standing by his vessel. “Home sweet home! Glad to be back, Phibbs?”

The rocketeer raised his helmet, his chin nodding upwards in approval. He flashed a quick thumbs up, pressing it into his chest plate with content movements. His attention peaked once he caught sight of the young traveller. The silent man waved his greeting, using his hands as a means to question the boy’s experience.

“The ride was good. Sung taught me a little bit about the soligrams and other things.” Strive looked back at the angular ship, its sharp, golden wings down in a resting position. “Your ships are amazing, but they’re very different from mine. Flying felt a lot more . . . clunky than it did with my vessel.”

Phobos tilted his head, running his thumb along his index finger while he twisted his wrist, pretending to use a tool of some sort.

Sung chuckled. “Sure, man. One day you can take a better look at it. Just not today. For now, we’ve got to regroup with the gang and report our findings to Headquarters. Speaking of the others—here comes Meouch and Havve!”

With a tremendous bound, Meouch joined the crew, the circle finally being complete once Havve lumbered over. The robot made his way beside Sung, keeping his ruby glare trained on his partner. Strive dared to look up, only to avert his gaze when the robot flicked his eyes towards him. Not wanting to be caught staring, he kept his eyes low for the remainder of their gathering. 

Meouch let out a loud yawn, stretching his body upwards while he noisily cracked his stiff joints. “I could use a few days to unwind now that we’re home. Long missions like that are always a pain in the ass, ‘specially when they’re as borin’ as that! We had months of nothin’, just abandoned Graveyards and space junk that scratched up our ships.” 

Sung sighed in agreement. “True, it was an unsuccessful mission. But,” he motioned to Strive, cracking a giddy smile, “we found something pretty interesting! Well, some _one_ , but that’s beside the point. The mission wasn’t a total failure if we managed to save a life. Not only that, but this life managed to save _our_ lives in return. Pretty cool if I do say so myself.” Strive could feel his ears heat up in embarrassment from the attention he was receiving. 

“Yeah, yer’re not wrong. I guess somethin’ good did come out of that pointless excursion. I’m just glad I get some alone time for once. And food! We don’t have to worry about rationin’ now!” The feline began salivating when he thought about his next meal, no doubt a toxic mix of overbearing spices and nauseating meat samples. “Ya bet yer ass I’m gonna take as many damn naps as my heart desires.” 

“Hold up. Before you go wandering off and scaring some unfortunate cook, we need to report back to the Captain about our findings. Plus,” he gestured to Strive, “the kid needs some time to adjust to his new surroundings. Not to mention he needs some updated attire. That’s why you’re the perfect cat for the job!”

“I—what?!” Meouch stammered, choking on his disdain. “Why me? Why not Chaplin over there?” 

“Phobos needs some time to check out all of our ships and give them the appropriate fix. Havve and I will be giving the report. Since you’re boasting about all the free time you’ll have, I thought it would be perfect for you to guide Strive for a bit. Surely you can handle that, right?”

“Tsk! I’m not some dog who’ll do all yer dirty work, Sung!”

“Wow, good observation—who would've thought that you were a cat this entire time? One that needs to stop being such a sourpuss, no less.” Sung pressed his palm into Strive’s back, gently shifting him closer to Meouch. “He saved our lives, remember? The very least you can do is show him around and get him fixed up.” The doctor was smiling, and yet there was a slight edge to his voice. Upon hearing this, Meouch seemed less inclined to argue with his leader.

The feline crossed his arms, grumbling something under his breath. Finally, the beastie sighed, loosening his scrunch up visage. “Bah, alright. I’ll show him around. But don’t expect me to keep him for hours on end. If it takes too long, I’m passin’ him off to one of ya.”

The rest of the crew gave noncommittal waves, dashing off to whatever task they had claimed well in advance. This left Meouch and Strive stranded in the shipyard, awkwardly shifting their feet beside one another. Truthfully, Strive was very interested in seeing the rest of the ship, but he didn’t want to irritate the feline with his underlying curiosity. Instead, he chose to remain silent while the two of them stood idle in their spots, neither uttering a peep.

After a few moments, Meouch heaved a grand sigh. “C’mon, kid. I guess I’ll be takin' ya on a little tour. Stay close, don’t touch anythin’, and don’t talk to anyone.”

These were the rules set in place as the two of them wandered the megalithic vessel. Meouch seemed to have a perfect recollection of each corridor, weaving in and out of the hallways like he had done it a million times before. Strive’s head was spinning as he frantically looked at his surroundings, trying to capture an image of all the vastly different environments they passed. The hallways were relatively the same, save for the confusing amount of doors occupying each side, different symbols above the archways, and the unique musk of each corridor. But it wasn’t the hallways that he was fascinated by; it was the rooms the doors lead into. 

There were windows beside nearly every door, allowing for a brief preview of what was held inside. Strive saw strange, metallic settings; rooms with dubious vials and equipment; a lush, leafy forest contained behind closed doors; a room completely submerged in water—the possibilities seemed endless! Each room seemed to have a specific purpose, or perhaps a certain theme it was meant to embody. Some doors were sealed off, an unnerving symbol pasted above the door frame in effort to deter any wandering crew members. 

Speaking of crew members—there were many that walked past the two of them, offering excited greetings when Meouch tore through the crowd and confused stares once they noticed the strange boy trailing behind. Strive kept close to the beastie, trying his best not to attract attention to himself. These beings were unlike anything he had ever seen before, even more bizarre than Sung’s crew. 

Some were bipedal, others lurched their way through the hallways on legs of four, six, or none at all. One particular being walked past and greeted Meouch pleasantly, asking the “Commander” how his mission played out. What was striking about this individual was how he walked away and had a conversation with himself, _literally_ ;there were two heads stretched across his green shoulders, the two of them engaged in a hushed whisper as they wondered who the curious child behind the Commander was. 

Each passing gaze was beginning to scratch at his skin, an uncomfortable heat building beneath their questioning eyes. “Meouch,” piped Strive, wishing he could turn invisible. “Everyone keeps looking at me.”

The feline sniffed, offering some gruff grumbles. “Try not to let it bug ya, kid. It’s to be expected since they’ve never seen ya before.”

“I guess so . . . . Everyone is so different here. I never knew there were so many kinds of different beings in the cosmos.”

“Trust me, kid. Yer’e gonna meet lots of species ya never thought possible. Think of everythin’ ya know about yer world and toss it out the window. Accidental hitchhikers like ya need some sort of guide to get through the galaxy.” He paused, giving a resigned sigh. “Shit, I guess that’s my job right now. Damn that Sung, he knows I’m not teacher material.”

Strive tried his best to ignore the wandering glances, mustering his courage to ask a few more questions. “How many beings are on this vessel?”

“On Headquarters? Bah, too many to count! Ya saw the size of this ship, yeah? Shit needs an entire army to keep it up and runnin’. Luckily for us, that’s exactly what we have; there’s close to a few thousand crew members on this ship, not countin’ the ones who are out on missions now.”

With how dense the hallways could get, Strive didn't doubt this number. “What about all those rooms we walked past? What are they for?”

“Those? Mostly experiments—bioreclamation projects, toxicology surveys, species resurrection efforts, intergalactic robotics—too confusin' for my understandin’. I’m glad to leave it up to the scientists and doctors on board. If ya want to know more about that stuff, ya’d have better luck with Sung.”

“He must be really smart then.” Meouch nodded his head, leading the two of them into a wider, less condensed hallway. “If he’s good at the sciences and Phobos does repairs, what are you good at?”

Meouch let out a loud guffaw, stopping in his track so he could turn to Strive, his fuzzy chest puffed out in pride. “Yer’e lookin’ at the best weaponsmith in all of Headquarters! Need somethin’ to blow an enemy’s head off? I’ll whip up a beauty that’ll get the job done in seconds! Any weapon ya see on hand was single handedly designed and engineered by yer’s truly. I take great pride in my craft, so ya can be damn sure that each weapon will live up to its demands; more so than promised!”

After being near Meouch’s abrasive, gruff, and prickly personality for such a short time, it was easy to fit the label to the feline. Perhaps that’s why the two of them seemed to clash at times; they were two vastly different beings. Although Strive was curious, it was hard to ask his next question. “What kinds of weapons?”

Meouch was grinning from whisker to whisker, offering Strive a rough pat on the back that caused him to wince. “Anythin' the client wants. I do traditional knives, photon blades, ricochet guns, particle blasters, magmonic shives, meteorite hatchets, artificial claws—ya name it, I’ll make it.” He raised an eyebrow, flashing a toothy grin Strive’s way. “Interested in my craft, kid? I’m sure I can make the perfect weapon for yer needs. What’d ya have in mind? Daggers, guns, maybe some Augarn scale knuckles?” 

Strive tried to shift the focus elsewhere, having unintentionally sparked Meouch’s intense, weapon-centric interest. Through the beastie's prattling, he tried to politely decline his offers. “No, that’s alright. I’m not much of a weapon—”

“Hmm, judgin' by yer size and strength,” Meouch interjected, “I think a photon blade would be best for ya. Light weight, durable, easy to hide and maneuver; I can match the colour to yer appearance— ya’d be such a badass!”

“I really don’t need one. I don’t like the idea of fighting that . . . violently.”

Meouch scoffed, “What? How can ya not want somethin’ to defend yerself with? Like it or not, yer’e gonna have to have one eventually if yer’e ever gonna be on yer own in the cosmos. There are some sketchy beings and creatures lurkin’ in the darkness. Yer’e not always gonna have backup in times of trouble. Havin’ yer own weapon is the wisest thing anyone can do for themselves.” 

“But—”

“Look, kid. It’s admirable that ya don’t want to hurt anyone and that ya want to keep yerself on some high moral grounds, but ya’ve got to be realistic. Even the most pacifistic beings I know have their own weapons. Take Phobos for example; he doesn’t like fightin’, but I’ve seen him slash quite a few creatures in self-defense. It doesn’t make him a bad guy, just a livin’ one. That smartass can thank my expertises for keepin’ his hide intact for so long.” 

Begrudgingly, Strive had to admit that Meouch made a valid point. There would undoubtedly be times where he’d come face to face with danger, forced to choose between death or defense. Not only that, but he wouldn’t always have allies by his side to help him out. If it weren’t for Havve the night the Screamadonnas attacked, they’d all be dead. The thought of carrying a weapon wrestled with his morals, ultimately winning the struggle. It felt wrong, but it was definitely a necessary evil when it was put into perspective. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

Meouch smiled, leading Strive forwards as he talked him through the process. “I’m glad ya see it my way. Listen, ya don’t even have to use it, but I’d be more than happy to design somethin’ that’s to yer likin'. So here’s what I was thinkin’. . .”

Listening to Meouch rattle on about the different weapons, styles and their uses had rendered the boy’s mind numb to his surroundings, a hidden blessing as they made their way through even more corridors and hallways. Due to his focus on Meouch’s confusing explanations, it was easy for Strive to ignore those questioning stares that followed him through the vessel. Perhaps Meouch was aware of the fact, purposely using his voice as a way of shielding him from the outside stimulants. Although he came off as hotheaded, it would seem Meouch was actually mindful of those around him, especially to those who needed him the most

“Alright, kid. This is our stop.”

Strive looked at the door they had stopped in front of, noticing the symbol that was plastered above the archway. Unlike the other symbols from the science section of the vessel, this one was a lot more inviting and cozy. It seemed to be some sort of string flowing into a knot, a pair of scissors snipping one of the ends off. “Is this the seamstress Sung was talking about?”

“Yeah. She’s the one we leave in charge for more specialized orders. There are different crew members that deal with armor, uniforms—all that noise. But Powers is the one ya go to for unique styles. Trust me, kid. This woman has an incredible eye for design.” Before he rapped his knuckles against the door, Meouch paused, a thought coming to mind. “Right, I’m supposed to teach ya a few things while yer’e with me. See that slate by the door? Put yer hand on it and watch the screen.” 

Strive followed Meouch’s order, resting his palm on the thin slate beside the door. Much like the soligram Sung had given him, the slate responded to his genetic code, producing symbols to match his linguistic skills. He could see it now. A plain title with the words: 

_Seamstress. Knock before entering. Also, please have clothes on_ before _entering. Thanks,  
–Powers_

“If y'ever want to know what a room is for, just use the slate. It’s a lot more organized than havin’ numerous rooms yell out the name every time ya enter. If yer’e here long enough, ya won’t even need the signs.” Meouch knocked his paw against the door, pushing forwards without a response. “Powers, we’re decent and comin’ in”

The door creaked open, revealing a large room with a vast amount of fabrics, materials, and cut up clothing strewn about the entire area. To say the room was messy was an understatement, the entire floor hidden beneath layers of colours and styles. If Strive could compare the room to anything, he’d probably hold it side by side with the Bridge, each one a dramatic burst of colour that assaulted the eyes. How anyone could function, let alone work in such an environment, was beyond his understanding. 

Meouch walked forwards, unbothered by the chaotic setting. He crossed his arms, tail flicking as he scanned the entire room. “Powers? It’s Meouch. I’ve got a new request for ya.”

In response to his voice, a bundle of fabric beside Strive’s boot began to shift. Startled, he jumped back. He watched with a wide fascination as the clothes coiled themselves upwards, reaching to the same height as Meouch’s towering figure. The fabric grew tighter and tighter, shrinking together in a solid knot. Then, the colourful garments shot away, sending themselves flying across the room in a dazzling display of twirls. Most amazing of all was the figure left behind, her short stature looking up at Meouch with tremendous excitement. “Commander! I didn’t think your division would be back so soon!”

Meouch chuckled, motioning to the open air. “Good to see ya too, Powers. Still up to yer old dramatics, eh?”

The woman named Powers kept her pitch black eyes trained on Meouch, her size having been drastically reduced once she shed her excess fabric. She was taller than Strive, her thin frame wrapped beneath a flowing, green cloak as she prattled on happily with the feline. Her face was a fair, rosy pink that was further accentuated by her lovely smile. Between each grin, her short, purple fins would flutter at the side of her face. 

“You startled me," she trilled. "I hadn’t even heard you come in. Not many come by to visit my shop, I’ll have you know. Having a guest is quite an oddity. So, what can I do for you? Needing a new look? Busted the old one?” 

“Glad to say that yer work was kept intact throughout the whole trip. Not a single snare or tear this time 'round. No, it’s not our crew who needs touch ups, it’s the kid.” Meouch pointed a thumb over in Strive’s direction, calling Powers’ attention to him for the first time.

Her onyx eyes lit up, the lavender fins on her cheeks shooting upwards in surprise. She rushed over, grabbing Strive’s azure hands and shaking them between her rosy, webbed fingers. “Goodness, I didn’t even see you! Welcome! I haven’t seen you around before, have I? I’m Powers! Creticie Powers, but just Powers in fine!”

Strive was at a loss for words, his speaking abilities swallowed by Powers’ enthusiastic greeting. She was quite the joyous being, happily revealing every last detail about herself and bombarding him with endless questions. She was a very beautiful being, authentic in every sense. Unlike the Screamadonnas that laced themselves with false radiance, Powers was making up for everything those vile creatures lacked. The energy she exuded was salubrious, making all of their troubles fizzle away in her presence. 

“I’m Strive. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

“Strive; Oh, what a lovely name! Where are you from, Strive? How did you meet up with Commander Meouch? But most importantly; what happened to your clothes?! I know for a fact that you’re not wearing your own shirt. I can smell the musty stench of Sung’s closet from a lightyear away.” As if to prove a point, she wrinkled her pointed nose in disgust. 

Before Strive could respond, Meouch stepped between the conversation, trying to get the seamstress on track. “It was a bit of an accident. We came across him in our travels, settled on a planet, and got attacked by some creatures a few lightyears away. The kid got torn apart in the process and needs a new getup. Think ya can handle it?”

Powers hummed, looking at Strive’s attire with a critical gaze. “Yes, I can certainly help with that. I just need to take a few measurements and get a description of what I’ll be doing. One moment please—” Suddenly, Powers flicked her cloak above her head, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Strive gasped, his eyes going wide as he looked towards Meouch for an explanation.

Meouch shrugged, crewing at his claws as if he had seen this trick a thousand times over. “She uses some tech that her species developed. Brought it over when she joined us at Headquarters. Don’t worry, ya won’t be so surprised once ya’ve seen it a million times. It’ll lose its spectacularness.” 

“How rude!” Powers materialized in front of Meouch, sending a spray of fabric in her wake. Meouch nearly choked on the nail in his mouth, gritting it between his fangs as he tried to calm his raised hackles and heartbeat. “I think it’s amazing no matter how many times you view it. You’re just jealous that you can’t do it. Now then, Strive—hold up you arms for me, dear. Uhuh, perfect.” Powers whisked around Strive’s form, taking measurements and descriptions of what his clothes looked like before. Throughout her measurements, she would hum as she envisioned the attire, making mental notes of how to produce the best product.

After a good while, Powers put her measurements down, clicking her tongue in approval. “Alright, that should do it. I should have the designs ready for tonight and finished by the next day. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, dears. Tell the rest of the boys to stop by whenever they have a second. It’ll be good to chat after all these months.”

“Will do, Powers. Thanks again for stitching somethin’ together for the kid. Sung said he appreciates it.”

Powers waved her webbed hand. “Think nothing of it, Commander. Anything for you guys. I better be receiving the full story of your mission as payment, though! It’s the stories that keep these busy fingers going!”

Meouch was already leading Strive to the door, giving a wave to the seamstress. “Hate to disappoint, but it’s a pretty bland one this time around. But since ya asked for it, I’ll make sure to bore ya half to death when we have time.” 

Powers smiled, her dark eyes glistening happily. “I look forward to it. Oh, and Strive!”

Strive paused, looking back as his feathered ears perked with interest. 

She giggled, grinning broadly as lines crinkled the edges of her eyes. “Welcome to the crew!”

  
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Shortly after their visit with Powers, Meouch received a signal from Sung that called them back for a meeting. Taking an entirely different route, the two of them walked through the hallways as they navigated the numerous corridors of Headquarters. This time around, Meouch was more willing to make small talk, slowly opening himself up to Strive as he tried his best to answer his questions. 

In the case of Powers, he explained that she was from a planet a few lightyears away, adopting the traits of a wandering nomad in hopes of scoring a few jobs here and there. Fortunately for her, she had managed to land a solid position as a seamstress onboard after word got out about her talents. From what was described, it would seem she was rather exclusive to Sung’s crew, mostly serving their unique requests. 

Strive also asked about the stars on her planet; apparently she was never affected by their disappearance, having only known life underneath the planet’s aquatic veil. The boy could see the shivers that travelled across Meouch’s fur whenever he described the planet, having an adverse reaction whenever the word _water_ graced his muzzle. 

The two of them eventually made their way to the destination, a satisfied gust of air escaping Meouch’s nose when he beheld the room. “Finally. Home sweet home.” Meouch dove for a specific chair, visibly sinking into the well worked fabric. His claws flexed as he relaxed himself, lesions from the past flaking up from the chair’s damaged arm rest. 

Strive observed the room, a certain cozy quality radiating throughout the entire area. It seemed like a hub of sorts, a place for the crew to stay and relax when they saw fit. There were other chairs pressed against the walls, each one a different build for their different beings. There was a decent sized table gravitating the chairs in a circle, the dusty remains of an interrupted card game sprawled across the wood. Upon closer inspection, the entire room seemed to be coated in a thin layer of dust, the environment having not been disturbed for quite some time. The monitors on the walls were practically white from the particles’ thickness, the same situation applying for any décor on the walls. 

Transfixed by the room, Strive idly ran his fingers on the dusty surfaces, collecting the heavy particles on his skin. Every table looked grey, but a simple swipe of his fingers was enough to reveal the glistening brown finishes beneath. The room had an area for leisure, but also one for dining that was tucked away in the corner. The dining table looked well used, various stains and cup rings splotching the surface. There was even a chip out of the wood, hopelessly coloured in with the completely wrong shade of brown.

It was hard to focus on a single element of the room. Everything was perfect in an imperfect way. The cluttered cards, well used furniture, even the mismatched knick-knacks that littered the surrounding shelves were a sight to behold. Everything had personality, a sense of who owned what and how it functioned in their lives. Strive couldn’t help himself as he grinned warmly, his core flashing fully beneath his shirt. 

There was a strong sense of family in this room.

Meouch must have noticed him staring into nothingness, growling for his attention as he put his feet up onto the dusty table. “Take a seat while the others get here. Ya can pull up one of the dining chairs for now.” 

Strive followed his suggestion, scrapping the chair against the floor as he dragged it beside Meouch’s overworked leather throne. “Is this where you guys live?”

“Yeah, this is our common room; our actual rooms are just beyond that hallway.” Strive hadn't even noticed the hallway before, trailing his eyes in the direction of Meouch’s pointed claw. “It’s not much, but it’s the best place I’ve ever been in. It’s . . . not usually this dirty. But y’know, we’ve been travellin’ for some time and haven’t really had the chance to tidy up the mess. It’s understandable if ya don’t think—”

“No,” Strive interrupted, turning to Meouch with an excited twinkle in his eyes. “I love it! It’s amazing!”

Meouch’s muzzle twitched upwards, a smile daring to grace his stoic visage. “Pftt, glad ya think it’s neat. It’s not the most luxurious, but it definitely holds an important place in my heart.” 

Strive nodded in agreement, feeling the projection of fondness the feline held for this space. There was absolutely a closeness to be felt in this room, more so when the rest of the crew dashed into the common area. They all had the same reaction as Meouch upon first entering; a sigh of pure relief and the action of sinking themselves into their corresponding chairs, each one wiggling in order to get that desired feel. Even Havve sat down, lowering himself into a circular chair with a few satisfied clicks.

“Stars alive; It’s been way too long!” whined Sung, his words cracking as emotion flooded his voice. “I missed this place. Feels like we’ve been gone for years.” Havve nodded in agreement, keeping his ruby gaze steady. Phobos sunk into his chair further, offering a weak thumbs-up as his muscles surrendered to relaxation. Meouch gave a gravely hum, mindlessly flexing his claws into the leather armrest. 

The crew lay motionless for a while, savouring every last bit of new found calm. Unsure of what to do, Strive sat quietly in his chair, arms folded politely over his lap while he waited for them to come off their carefree high. He wasn’t sure what they had been through during their mission, but it was obviously a tiring excursion. It would seem relaxation was a luxury few could afford in the cosmos.

“Meouch,” hummed Sung, lazily lulling his head to the side. “How did the meeting with Powers go? Was she happy to see you?”

“Hmm, went well. She wants us fill her in on our mission when we have time. Also, she’s gettin’ the kid’s wardrobe ready. Should be available tomorrow.” 

“Nice. Havve and I were able to talk to Captain Stannard and give him the rundown of what went on. Filled him in on the less than ideal bits, but also the most interesting one.” He pointed to Strive, shifting himself upwards so he could better address the boy. “Due to your unique circumstance, you’ll be staying with us for the time being. Get used to this place, ‘cause you’ll learn to call it home soon enough.” 

Strive’s core flickered in excitement. “Here? Like this room?”

“Here, and your own place. The common room is where we plan meetings, discuss our course of action, and goof off to our heart’s content. Lucky for you, we’ve got a spare room in the back! He’s never here to use it anyhow, so I’m sure he won’t mind us using it for once. Probably.” Sung seemed nervous at that statement, chuckling quickly as he tried to push away his unease. “It’ll be fine! It’s cool that we’ve finally got another member for the Brigade. There’s something special about you, kid. It’s a gut feeling that I can’t seem to shake.” He smiled to himself, the action seeming much more reserved that usual.

The Brigade? “You’re . . . letting me stay?”

“Of course! We agreed to this back on the ship, did we not? You’ve got a spark about you and I admire it! Granted, you are incredibly naïve about this world and would most certainly be dead if we hadn’t found you—and almost killed you, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make here; you’ve got a quality that my crew just can’t pass up. Your bravery caught my attention. I think we all agree that you’d be welcomed with open arms.”

Strive looked towards the other crew members, noticing their nods of approval when Sung spoke. “I don’t know what to say . . . but thank you! I’ll do my best to prove myself to you!”

“I don’t doubt you for a second, kid.” Sung stood from his chair, placing a hand on Strive’s buzzing shoulder; he could hardly contain his excitement. “Welcome to the Brigade, Strive.”

There was that word again. Sung spoke as if his crew represented this ‘Brigade’, implying that it was a special position to uphold. “The Brigade?” he questioned. 

Sung chuckled, smiling broadly as a fiery passion laced its way into his words. “Didn’t I tell you? Our mission is to bring back the stars, same as you. If anyone can do it, it will definitely be my crew. After all, we are the great Starlight Brigade.”

  
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_“Stars alive, Sung! Do you really think this will work?”_

_Sung nodded, sitting upright in his ship’s chair. He looked over his map time and time again, making sure his coordinates were correct. “I bet my entire collection that this plan will work flawlessly. All we have to do is sneak by the scavengers and make our way to the central fortress. Then, we’ll fire everything we’ve got and destroy the entire Void fleet! I’ve run the test countless times; nothing can survive this attack. Not even those abominations”_

_His companion clicked her tongue, pressing her finger onto the same map that Sung held. His soligram adhered to her language, allowing for her to read the map in full detail. “Destroying a few lone scavengers is easy, but what about the bigger groups? It’s easy to take down a few stragglers, but it’s dangerous to attack an entire hoard. We’d never keep up.”_

_“See, that’s where the cloaking device comes in! It’ll let us sneak past the minor threats so we can save our ammo and aim for the bigger target. If they can’t see us, there’s no way they’ll ever know we’re coming. Sneak in, blast the centre, and escape with the memory of saving the entire cosmos! It’s foolproof.”_

_The women still seemed a little hesitant, thinking through all the possibilities that were not yet discussed. “Okay, say we sneak past the hoards, infiltrate the centre, and set off our weapons. How are we going to escape the aftershocks? I’m all for saving the cosmos in a selfless blast of glory, but you know my situation. I can’t just throw my life away. Not yet.”_

_Sung smiled, reaching into his pocket for a small sphere, a single button resting on top. Despite its compact size, the object was incredibly dense, weighed down by all of its complex circuits and energy sources. “That’s where this little guy comes into play. You and I will each keep one of these on hand. There’s a chance that we’ll blow up once the weapons are released; scratch that, it probably will blow us up.” His companion grimaced, gulping nervously at the thought. “But, there are workarounds. As soon as we fire the weapons, just hit this button and we’ll be thrown into the Bridge. I’ve programmed it to bring us to a far off planet, one that is habitual for both of us. What happens after that? Eh . . . I’ll work out the details when the time comes.”_

_His companion laughed, punching his arm playfully. “Jerk, you’re supposed to think all your plans through, not half-assing them when the time comes. Seriously, one of these days your nonchalant attitude will get you killed.”_

_“Please, I’ve been around for countless years. My methods haven’t failed me yet.” Sung dissolved his map, tucking it away into his side pocket. He motioned his companion to sit beside him, ready to talk her head off. “Okay, so here’s how we’re going to do it—”_

_She groaned, taking her seat and flopping her body across the arms. “Ugh, do I have to listen to you prattle on, Sung? My poor ears can’t take it much longer! Knowing you, we’ll end up in another cosmic tide by the end of this mission!”_

_“If you would listen to my so-called prattling, you would hear all about how we won’t end up there.” Sung huffed in annoyance, setting the coordinates into his ship. “And here I thought we were friends. If you were a real friend, you’d listen to my nonsense no matter how monotonous it is.”_

_His companion groaned, hitting her head against the back of the chair. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me one day.”_

_Sung scoffed, relaxing into his chair. “With this genius plan, that won’t even be an option.”_

  
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**Ah! Nexeliam, this is so cute! Your drawings never cease to amaze me. Make sure to give our artist/translator some love! :^)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if you guys are familiar with her, but the character Powers was inspired by one of the main designers for the Starlight Brigade music video, Elle Power! To make it easy to imagine her character, picture an intergalactic axolotl. 
> 
> Psst, don't forget to watch the TRWP show on Twitch every (mostly ever) Saturday! It's a hoot and a half! 
> 
> Thanks for tuning in everyone! I love the positive support this story has been receiving. Thank you once again, folks! :)


	12. The More You Learn, the Less You Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with a controlled testing environment, the crew learns that Strive's vessel is a lot more complex than they first thought. Despite their best efforts, nothing in their known vocabulary could even come close to explaining the origins of the ship. As they find out more, they are left with a single question: How could this thing even be real?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/11/02) Images done by the tremendous [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/66842638#workskin) **
> 
> **Psst, keep an eye out for a bonus image at the end of this chapter! Not only that, but an additional one in between! Oh, Nexeliam—you spoil us! ♥**

The common room was bustling with energy, any trace of dust completely wiped away as the crew made themselves at home after such a long absence. Surfaces had been cleaned, organized and filled to the brim as each member brought back their personal belongings. Most of the crew had a very minimal amount to bring—Sung brought back nearly a third of the clutter the flooded his ship. He called upon his team to help him move back in, earning a few groans and sagged shoulders. As for Strive, he was asked to remain at the dining table with the glorious task of studying some of the basic how-to’s of the cosmos.

It was Sung who has given him the small slate; a beginner’s guide to their first steps into the abyss. “I borrowed this from Headquarters’ library,” he had explained, handing Strive a strange, rectangular frame. “Technically, it’s from the children’s section. But it will absolutely help to introduce you to the open world without too much confusion. Just ignore the . . . language used. It’s not a reflection on you, it’s just the best thing I could find right now.”

The “language” Sung had referred to was made clear once Strive figured out how to use the frame. By pressing his finger into a small groove, the slate crackled to life, displaying two transparent pages in the form of an open book. The pages were tangible, much like the screens on the soligrams. Strive turned the clear paper gently, loading the first page of the booklet. He could feel his ears heat up in embarrassment once the humiliating title materialized before him:

_My Very First Adventure! A Child’s Starting Guide to the Cosmos. Includes Fun Activities on Every Page!_

“Aww, baby’s first book!” snickered Meouch, looking over Strive’s shoulder during one of his many returning trips to the common room, his arms full of various items and memorabilia. “Y’know, I remember my first book. I used to read that thing everyday when I was a kit. I probably still have that damned thing lyin’ around somewhere. It wasn’t as fancy as the one ya got now; I had to make do with a flimsy handbound copy.”

Strive tried his best to ignore the heated blush that rose to his cheeks whenever Meouch mocked him. It most certainly was a guide for very young children, the text much too large for an older reader like himself. The images were simple, countless labels pointing at various parts and sections of each whimsical drawing. Although the guide was unbearably condescending—engaging the reader with silly prompts like: “Can you count all the inner rings of a lesser dwarf planet?” and “How many colours can you name in 30 seconds?”—the boy found it much easier to read when he ignored the pointless splash text and used his time on the real information instead. 

It was all incredibly interesting. Things like the Bridge were explained in easy detail, simply describing it as a highway or shortcut through the Wastelands; nearly identical to what Sung had previously explained to him. It was seen as relatively safe, developed millions of years ago by an ambitious, but lonely scientist who just wanted a way of avoiding the nothingness. He was somehow able to pinpoint the exact energy levels needed to trigger the Bridge, publicizing the formula for everyone in the galaxy to use for themselves. Described as an act of selfless generosity, the unnamed scientist was heavily praised for his discovery, his legacy forever immortalized by the grateful inhabitants of the cosmos.

Another page went on to explain the importance of owning your own ship. Obviously, one of the only ways to travel through the cosmos was to pilot the appropriate vessel, one that could withstand the pressures of the open wasteland. Apparently the development of ships was very important. Each pilot would have to go through extensive lengths to imprint their genetic codes onto their ships, allowing for their vessels to become registered into the system. Then, depending on how they got their ships manufactured, a whole world of customizations would be available to suit each pilot’s needs. How anyone could afford this was beyond Strive’s imagination, each explanation sounding like it favoured those born into more privileged lives.

In terms of his vessel, it would seem he missed out on the appropriate steps for gaining his registered license. 

While this guide was certainly useful, it served as a reminder for how delayed his people were in terms of knowledge and grandeur exploration—it felt like they had been abandoned, cast into darkness while those fortunate enough were free to roam the skies at their leisure. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he supposed it was impossible for everyone to be on the same page. It was possible that his species simply drew the shorter straw. Despite this barrier, Strive was hopeful that he could bring back some much needed knowledge when he made his eventual return.

He spent the next few hours absorbing the juvenile guide at his fingertips, occasionally focusing on the crew while they hunched over their table, throwing their cards down in various fits of frustration and rage. Specifically, it was Meouch who was fumbling his words, cursing between gritted fangs when he was forced to push a stack of currency towards Phobos. “Can’t have shit when Phobos is playin’! This jackass has the strongest poker face out of us all!”

“You’re just angry that you’re always the loser,” cackled Sung, a decent pile of currency stacked by his cards. “Besides, we know when you’re lying, kitty. Your whiskers twitch like a leaf whenever you get bad cards. Might as well cut them off.” 

Meouch covered his muzzle, attempting to brush his whiskers to the side. “Tsk! Shut it, Sung. The two of ya have the helmet advantage. If this were a professional game, yer sorry asses would be disqualified before y'even got to the table.” 

Havve watched the entire exchange from the sidelines, offering nothing but a few clicks. Then, his mechanical arm twisted to reveal his play, his cards fanned out with perfect precision. Meouch choked on his own words, watching helplessly as the robot claimed the remainder of his chips. “Ya’ve got to be shittin’ me!” Meouch bristled in rage while his crew members laughed at his lousy luck, nearly causing Sung to topple over in his chair. Phobos looked like a stuttering mess, his shoulders vibrating as a silent guffaw overtook him. Even Havve showed some type of humour, his ruby orbs narrowed in an artificial sneer. “That’s it, I’m callin’ it quits! I’m goin’ to bed!”

Upon hearing this, Strive’s ears perked at the suggestion. For the first time since he arrived, he wondered how long he had been awake for. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a few days, his unconscious state hardly counting as a comfortable rest. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that had kept him functioning for so long, but surely his reserves were bound to run out soon. 

“Meouch has a point. We should probably hit the hay.” Sung rose from his chair, raising his arms high above his head as he snapped his stiff joints. He turned to Strive, nodding to his guide. “Has it been useful? You’ve been reading for quite some time, kid.”

Strive nodded, tapping his finger on the edge of the frame to close the booklet; the pages dissolved into thin air. “Very. Thanks for grabbing me a copy.” He put the frame down on the table and hopped off his chair. Now that his attention was no longer absorbed in the guide, a sudden weight began tugging down his eyelids. “I’m . . . sleeping here, right?”

“Yes! Of course, kid. Let me show you to your room.” Sung motioned for Strive to follow, leading him down the dividing hallway. There were five rooms in total, each one presumably belonging to one of the Brigade members. The rooms were positioned across from one another, each door serving as points for the star-shaped insignia on the ground. “You’ll be taking the one on the far left. Truth be told, we never really go in there. The last occupant was rather—well, he was one hell of a secretive guy. Who knows what he left in there.”

Strive made a face, feeling a little concerned by Sung’s ominous disclosure. “What happened to him?” he asked, fearing the worst for the missing individual.

Sung didn’t answer for a second. Then, he gasped. “Oh! No, he’s absolutely fine. He’s just on a separate mission right now. See, the Starlight Brigade is made up of five—six now that you're here. I serve as the leader, then we’ve got Meouch, Phobos, Havve, yourself, and Brian.” Sung fiddled with the doorknob as he spoke. “Due to Brian’s specialized set of skills, he was called upon for a special recovery mission a few dimensions down. See, he’s an excellent tracker, one of the best there is. If you’ve got a target, Brian will make it his duty to find them. When the order is placed, there’s no escaping him. Ah, here we are.”

Sung pushed open the door, revealing the pitch black domain. A cool breeze nibbled at Strive’s skin, encouraging a small shiver to pass. “Are you sure Brian won’t mind me taking over his room? He sounds like an intimidating being.”

“Oh yeah, he’s someone you don’t want to tangle with. He could break your neck in a millisecond.” Strive paled slightly. “But don’t worry about claiming his room; he made the choice to vacate since he’s gone most of the time. He prefers to sleep on his ship on the rare days he comes back. Besides, he probably already knows we’ve opened the door. He possesses a terrifying amount of intuition.” 

After hearing this brief description of Brian, he was beginning to regret his eagerness to have his own room. Perhaps he was not the best individual to tangle with, much less barge in on his previous quarters. Unfortunately, now was not the time to back down. Sung had offered him the kind gift of having a place to stay. He couldn’t bring himself to reject it. Instead, he embraced it, letting the room flood his vision once the lights were turned on.

There appeared to be nothing in the space, any sense of personal touch stripped away when Brain had moved out. What was left were the bare bones of functional furniture and appliances. Empty bookshelves lined the wall, a beautifully crafted desk wedged between the two towers of wood. The appeared to be two separate doors near the side—a bathroom and storage closet. As Strive stepped further into the room, he could hear the echo of his footsteps, the emptiness magnifying its unoccupied status. Scanning the large area, his eyes went wide as he beheld the best element of all; a window to the outside.

Strive ran to the window, hopping onto the bed frame that rested beneath the glorious sight. He pressed his hands to the glass, peering out at all the fascinating shapes that surrounded Headquarters. He watched as different vessels sped through the air, leaving a blinding trail of ignition in their wake. His core flashed excitedly beneath his shirt when he saw a ship enter the Bridge, the colorful gateway swallowing the vessel in the blink of an eye. The outside world was alive and incredibly diverse, serving as a reminder for how energetic the cosmos could be. 

Spellbound by the outside world, he hardly noticed the additional pressure that sat down beside him. He could hear a faint chuckle coming from Sung. “One of the best views in the house, kid. I had a hunch you’d enjoy it.” Strive nodded, finding himself at a loss for words. He couldn’t bring himself to look away. Delicate light lit his awestruck features, the gem’s full strength being snuffed by his temporary shirt. If it were fully visible, he’d become a beacon through his window. 

As much as he wanted to continue watching the spectacle before him, he was beginning to feel himself lose his strength, a weary thickness slowly making its way through his body. He gave a powerful yawn, his eyes tearing up from the action. He could hardly see the world through his blurred vision. “Sung,” he whispered, beginning to nod off. “I can sleep here? For how long?”

Sung smiled softly, his heart warming when his listened to the boy’s guileless slurs. “You already asked that. Of course you’re saying here. For as long as you want, Strive. This is your home and you’re welcome to keep it as such.” The doctor gradually removed himself from the edge of the bed, setting his sights on the slim linen closet. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it still had blankets. Fabric in hand, he wrapped the puffy blanket around Strive’s exhausted form, tucking it in such a way that it wouldn’t fall off his shoulders. “You deserve some rest. We’ll get you properly sorted tomorrow, alright?” 

Strive gave a tiny nod, the action hardly noticeable as he slowly succumbed to his fatigue. Within a few moments, he was lulled into a blissful slumber, his bundled body resting against the window. Sung made sure his bed was properly set in the event that he toppled over in the middle of the night. He grabbed multiple pillows from the closet, lining them around the boy’s huddled form. He could hear the faint sound of Strive’s steady breathing, his shoulders rising in tune with a light, steady rhythm. 

Now that he was fast asleep, Sung carefully made his way out of the room and turned off the lights, leaving Strive in the safety of the night’s embrace. He gently closed the door, his hand shaking against the handle. A crisp 'click' finalized the deed. The doctor let out an unsteady gust of air, his throat beginning to close as the pain reached unbearable levels of agony.

He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as waves of sorrow crashed into his heart. It felt like he was being suffocated, a malicious dagger carving its way down his centre. He could feel his bottom lip quiver, his breathing beginning to sputter between irregular gasps. His entire body was shaking, trembling as unimaginable sadness tore his soul apart. He never wished this feeling upon anyone, not even the most heinous individuals. 

It was all so cruel.

The intrusion of a cool, metallic grasper on his shoulder brought him back to the present, his gaze locking with Havve’s sullen eyes. The robot shared an unspoken understanding, gripping Sung’s shoulder a little tighter for comfort. The man stopped shaking, managing to regain some composure for himself. But the pain—it was still there. It always would be.

He looked to the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose as tears coursed down his cheeks. He buried his face into his scarf, wishing he could simply disappear. 

  
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“How’s the fit, kid? Similar to yer last one?”

Strive carefully pulled his new shirt above his head, stretching his arms into its long, black sleeves. He adjusted the shirt around his core, a perfectly sized indent added to the fabric upon his request. It took a little extra maneuvering, but so far the shirt was a near identical match. He arranged himself in front of the mirror, addressing the feline behind his door. “It’s looking good! Powers did an amazing job with this.” 

“Aye, I told ya she’s got an eye for style. Not to mention lightnin’ fast fingers. Just as she promised; delivered first thing in the mornin'. Anyways,” Meouch’s voice became more distant as he began walking away from the door. “Get yer ass out here. We’ve got a special place to be today. Don’t keep us waitin’ any longer!”

“Okay, coming!” Strive quickly straightened his clothes out, positioning his new cloak snugly around his shoulders. He felt himself breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that his core was out in the open once more. The shirt that Sung has given him was fine, but he couldn’t deny how uncomfortable and suffocating the foreign fabric had been. Despite originally saying he would give the shirt back, he couldn’t help but keep it for the time being. Since it had been a gift, it felt wrong to discard it.

Strive tugged his shirt down a few more times, accidentally brushing his knuckles against his ribs. He inhaled sharply, expecting a throbbing pain to radiate from his injured side. However, he was surprised by the lack of reaction; practically non-existent. He raised an eyebrow, lifting up his shirt in curiosity. He still had his bandages wrapped around the initial wound, dried blood crusting at the sides. He picked at the covering, unable to stop himself as he slowly peeled the layers away. Sung would probably scold him for messing with his work, fussing over his wounds and demanding another batch of wrapping. Even with this in mind, it soon became clear that he wouldn’t need any first aid in the near future.

Miraculously, his wound had nearly healed itself. Strive blinked, gently running his fingers over the previous damage. There was no pain. No blood. The only evidence of trauma was the light blue scar tissue above the initial site, an impressive set of claw marks decorating his skin. A quick inspection yielded the same results on his arm; he was healed, a light blue mark replacing the burn. His core flashed steadily, the rhythmic pulse sending his vitals into a frenzy. Surely this wasn’t normal.

“Huh.”

Meouch’s voice sounded behind the door, a slight lick of irritation in his words. “Hey, ya comin’, kid? Everyone’s waitin’ for ya.”

“Ah! Yeah, just one second!” Strive discarded the bandages, repositioning his attire one last time before charging out of his room. Perhaps he put too much force into it, relishing in his newly healed body by over exaggerating his strength. The door swung open, crashing into the wall with a sickening crunch. The noise was embarrassingly loud, causing all of the crew members to look down the hallway. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he called, his ears glowing a light shade of pink. 

He galloped towards the group, glad to find them sitting patiently in their chairs; last night’s card game was still scattered across the table, the chips toppled over from Meouch’s fit of rage. Phobos waved for Strive’s attention, happily patting his hand down on a dining chair beside him. Taking the hint, the boy took his spot, redirecting his attention towards Sung as the man explained the day’s plan.

He gave a broad smile, projecting his signature positivity. “Glad you could join us, kid. Now then, here’s the plan of action—”

Sung explained the proposal to the group, expressing full confidence in its legitimacy and performability. Now that they were in a stable environment, it would be the perfect time to figure out how Strive’s vessel really worked. Under careful observation, controlled conditions, and some trial and error, he had high hopes that they could learn how to control the ethereal ship. They’d start someplace small then move up to bigger rooms, eventually braving the outside world. 

All this talk about flying sent sparks of anticipation through Strive’s core, igniting his intoxicating lure for the skies. He’d only managed to clear the stratosphere by some lucky fluke, his emotions serving as the primary pilot through his first flight. Hopefully with a bit of training he’d be able to fine tune his vessel. 

Once the plans were set, Sung motioned the crew out of the hub. Just like the previous day, Strive was led through different hallways and sections that had virtually no meaning to him. For the majority of the trip, Strive spent his time chatting with Phobos and observing his expressive motions. At one point, the two of them entered some sort of mimicry cycle, playing off each other's movements and mirroring the latter. It was definitely entertaining, earning a few laughs from the rest of the crew. Even Havve’s looming figure seemed humoured, his jaw set in a slightly higher position than usual—then again, it could have been a malfunction.

The group stopped when they reached the designated area. Sung placed his hand onto a transparent slate by the entrance, his unique signature working to unlock the door. “This room is reserved for special field research. Thankfully, hardly anyone ever uses it. We should be left alone for the entire length of the experiment.” The door hissed open, a green light flashing overhead as the crew walked inside; it closed with a clamorous buzz, locking itself from the inside out. 

The chamber was windowless, coated with incredibly tall steel walls. It was as if Strive had walked into an barren field, the length mirroring that of the pentawren fields he used to run through. Barren was the right word; that’s all his fields were now. “What exactly are we going to be doing?” he asked, cautiously tapping his boot on the metallic floors. 

“This will be our chance to see your vessel in action. Havve, Phobos and I will be taking some visual notes. Meouch is here so he’s not out of the loop later on.” Upon hearing the remark, Meouch barred his fangs, lifting up a single finger in protest. 

Strive could feel a small bout of nervousness swim into his core when he realized he would be observed. “Alright. What’s the first thing you want me to do?”

“Call out your ship. See if you can replicate the same thing as before.” Sung motioned for the crew to step back, giving Strive some much needed space. “No pressure!” he yelled in the distance, offering an encouraging wave. Phobos flashed a hearty thumbs up, followed by a nod from a disgruntled looking Meouch; even Havve seemed supportive, bending his graspers into an unpolished pose. 

“Yeah, no pressure whatsoever . . .” grumbled Strive, feeling bashful beneath the crew’s watchful eyes. He inhaled deeply, trying to remember the feeling he had when his vessel first emerged. He didn’t have to use words, just a silent demand from within. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of his palm over his glowing chest. It was odd—he could almost see the energy. A white flare flowed through his black vision, coiling itself around his mind. He called upon the wisp, cradling it from within his core.

His eyes shot open. An electric shock coursed through his palm, the white hot current weaving its way through his fingers. Strive could hear a collective gasp from the crew as they watched him twist the energy, guiding the essence to the end of his fingertips. Despite his lack of experience, it felt as if he had done this a thousand times before. He let the energy dance through the air, watching in awe as the tendrils coiled together in an explosive flash of light, pulling back to reveal the smooth exterior of his ethereal vessel. The spacecraft gave a low, ghostly hum, gently hovering above the metal ground. Its wings curved in a downwards motion, curling slightly as it reached the ends. Strive could see himself in the viewing window, his reflection illuminated by the brilliance of his core. The vessel kept its front bowed, kneeling before the boy and his companions.

The sound of eager footsteps rushed behind Strive. Sung was the first to speak, his every word being recorded by the furious scribbles of his robot partner. “Okay, great! We actually got somewhere. How’s it feel, kid? Anything different? Things worth mentioning at all?”

“Erm, nothing feels different. It all sort of . . . felt natural? Like I’ve done it before?” Strive looked at his vessel, a wave of calmness washing over him when he beheld his vessel. “I just envisioned grabbing the energy and focused on redirecting it to one place. The vessel did the rest.”

“I see, I see,” Sung had his hand below his chin, scratching it as he closely examined the exterior. “It’s definitely tangible. It doesn’t use any compression tech, does it? That would explain how it can change its size so easily.”

Strive shrugged, shaking his head in confusion. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t think it does?”

Sung motioned for Phobos to approach, gesturing to the entire vessel. “Take a scan, will you, Phobos? See if you can get a reading on the type of tech we’re dealing with.” The rocketeer nodded, pulling out the same device he had tried to use on it before. While Phobos ran around the ship, Sung took a cautionary step forwards, rapping his knuckles against the exterior; he put his head to the surface. “It doesn’t sound like any material I’m used to. I thought that having more available resources would help us diagnose its origins, but I’m still stumped. Phobos, any luck this time?”

The rocketeer finished his rounds, his body language stiff and frustrated by the lack of results. He threw his hands in the air, pointing to the ship as if to question its legitimacy. He then looked to Strive, tilting his helmet for an explanation. The boy could only shake his head, feeling just as lost as the rest of them.

“We couldn’t get any results on our first examination, now this one is giving nothing as well. Maybe you stumbled upon a new design? No, that wouldn’t make sense at all. It’s registered to you, but it’s not even in the system! Who’s to say this thing is even real at this point?” 

Strive walked towards the side of the vessel, hovering his hand over the edge. “I could try to fly it for you if that would help.”

The doctor nodded, mumbling to himself as he scanned his notes. “Sure, why not. I’m curious to see where the landing dock is located.”

A mischievous smirk found its way to Strive’s lips, his eyes darting to the vessel with a knowing glance. “Yeah, about that—” he placed his hand onto the exterior, the action causing multiple white blooms to engulf his palm. “There is none” The gluttonous blossoms raced up his arm, quickly pulling the pilot into the hull of the ship. The crew froze, their mouths left agape in shock; Havve dropped his papers to the ground. 

Judging by the muffled commotion outside his vessel, Strive could only assume his companions were losing their minds over the display; he couldn’t help but snicker childishly. Once he was completely inside the vessel, he slowly scanned the interior of the ship, the celestial beast lighting up at the exact rhythm of his glances. He made his way to the control panel, standing between the two central pillars as he had done in the past. He hovered his palms over the pillars, moving his arms slowly as he began to test its mobility. 

The vessel functioned without any issues, responding to his gentle movements with a light flutter to its wings. The fins swayed back and forth, free from the pains of its past injuries. Strive joined in on the fun, relishing in the bliss of his healed wounds. There seemed to be an undeniable connection between the ship and his well-being. It was like the vessel served as an extension of his body, sharing its own pains with the user. When the vessel returned to its pilot, a miraculous recovery was made. Strive couldn’t possibly imagine the answer for such a surreal event, but he was incredibly thankful for his luck.

His Lexicomm suddenly screeched, the piercing wailed causing him to wince in discomfort. He was nearly tempted to take it out of his ear. “Kid! What in the world was that!?” It was Sung, a loud combination of shock and bewilderment assaulting his ears. “You just disappeared into your ship! How’d you do that?”

Strive tapped his Lexicomm, addressing the frazzled doctor outside. “That’s how I get in. It’s the same thing when I leave as well. Those little blossoms pull me into the centre when I want them too.”

A gruff crackle interrupted the signal. “Are y'even real, kid? This is not somethin' what we’re used to!” Strive could hear the feline tapping against the exterior, slowly building up his force in the form of a sturdy punch; Strive felt a slight tickle on his side. “How do we even get in here?”

As a simple answer: they couldn’t.

No matter how much Strive tried—be it entering the ship while holding one of his companions, willing the ship to create an opening, the use of a short-distanced teleporter—it would seem that the vessel only allowed him to enter. Realizing they were getting nowhere with their experiment, Sung took a rather bold approach; he proposed the option of taking a sample of the vessel. 

The doctor grabbed a slim tool, one meant for scraping thin layers off of a patient. The scalpel glistened beneath the harsh light of the testing chambers, prompting Strive to shiver in unease. As Sung approached the ship, the vessel began to tremble mid-air, mirroring the inner fear of its pilot. With careful precision, the doctor—upon which he apologized for in advance—sliced off a thin layer of the wing’s exterior, earning a sudden gasp from the young Moebian. He looked down at his finger, a tiny splash of red making an appearance on his light blue skin. 

“That’s . . . concerning,” mused Sung, looking down at his minuscule sample. It appeared to be nothing spectacular, the sample having curled slightly when it was forcefully stripped from its body. The doctor was feeling a little giddy, eager to get his sample into a dignified lab setting. Unfortunately for him, this possibility didn’t last a single minute.

The sample began to glow, curling itself into a tiny speck of blazing light. Suddenly, the strip of energy shot towards the boy, burying itself into his core. It was a familiar feeling, similar to that of his vessel returning to its resting point. Within moments, a soothing calm washed over him. Curious, Strive decided to test his hypothesis from earlier. He looked at his injured finger, watching the slow dribble of blood that trickled down his skin. If he was right, they’d be faced with more questions than any logical answers. He wiped his bloody finger against his shirt, presenting the digit to the crew.

He no longer had the cut.

Everyone was silent. They couldn’t think of anything to say. Breaking through the bewilderment of his companions, Meouch was the first to come to his senses, a resigned sigh heaved through his lungs. “Seriously, how the hell are y'even real?”

This statement dominated the rest of the testing sequence, these lines having been muttered whenever a new discovery was made about the vessel. It was most certainly modeled after a mechanical ship—as described by Strive through his exclusive access—but it flowed through the air with the elegance of a living beast. The vessel needed a pilot to function, and yet the pilot was more than a simple sit in; they practically became the ship itself. A powerful connection was established between the vessel and its user, sharing their individual pain and reflecting it upon each other. This served as a tremendous drawback for Strive, suggesting that his life would always be in danger the moment he soared through the open skies.

In spite of this worrying disadvantage, Strive’s vessel possessed incredible speed, much faster than any of the crew members combined. In addition to its breathtaking agility, the vessel could twist seamlessly through the air, bending its body at impossible angles while maintaining a stable pace. For each movement he produced, the vessel would curve to his will, carrying out his orders with its dynamic display. 

The freedom Strive felt was incredible. Although he was confined to a smaller space, the act of soaring through the air was enough to set his core ablaze, the positive feedback encouraging his vessel to perform with increased sophistication. When it came time to retire for the day, it was hard to suppress the disappointment within his chest.

He swooped down to the ground, emerging from his ship in a bouquet of gentle white buds. Now that they were done, it was time for his vessel to retreat. The stark white beast shattered itself into a compact bundle of energy, tumbling into the safety of Strive’s core. As it nestled its way into his centre, new found vitality flowed through him. He placed a hand over his chest, feeling rejuvenated despite the hours of extensive testing he had just gone through. 

The rest of the crew seemed dazed, copious amounts of notes bundled in their arms—Meouch had nothing of the sort, his empty paws fiddling with his twisted whiskers. Judging by the towering stacks they were bringing back, Strive could only assume that they’d be working well into the advancing night. 

“I’d say that was a successful session,” hummed Sung, readjusting the papers in his grasp. “Sure, we don’t have a lot of answers, but we can probably come up with something plausible with a few more tests.”

Phobos seemed doubtful, sagging his shoulders while he nodded towards Strive. He shook his head back and forth, his fatigue beginning to show through his silent expression.

“Don’t lose hope now, Phobos. We’ll figure it out sooner or later. Besides, I think it’s kind of cool that we’re researching an undocumented phenomenon. That should lift your curious spirit, eh?”

The rocketeer seemed to consider this, tapping his foot as he contemplated the doctor’s words. He came to agree with him, nodding his head at the prospect of discovering something new. That seemed to do the trick, a new bounce finding its way into his stride as the crew made their way back to their common room. It took a little longer to return then it had to leave, the added element of balancing stacks of paper proving a little tedious at times. Papers would dislodge themselves, prompting Strive to take on the task of retrieving any stragglers. Thankfully, Meouch would pick up a few from time to time, making Strive's self-appointed job a lot easier. 

When they had returned, the crew dumped their papers onto the dining table, separating their own notes from the others. Strive began handing out the leftovers, matching the incoherent symbols with their complementing stacks. The last paper he gave must have been playing a trick on his eyes; he could have swore he recognized some of the symbols. Since he knew written language couldn’t be translated, he shrugged and pushed his improbable thought to the side, placing it back into Sung’s pile of notes. 

The crew had unanimously plopped themselves into their chairs, taking turns to talk about the day’s events. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of hybrid model," said Sung. "Probably a mix between Garvitch compression tech and Windgal evapor signals.” 

Strive had absolutely no idea what the men were referring to, but he decided to sit in his chair and listen anyways, grabbing a spare piece of paper so he could record the strange words. He’d ask about them later.

“Nah, can’t be Windgal tech. They need to be in an aquatic settin’ for their ships to volatilize. Besides, his vessel hasn’t got any of the necessary parts to perform the action. As for Garvitch? Bah, can’t be. They have a limit to how long they can carry a compressed ship. The kid’s gem thing doesn’t seem to have any set limit. He can probably store it for as long as he wants.” 

“Hmm, you’ve got a point. Havve, what do you think?” The robot looked towards Sung, his neck creaking as he moved his mechanical muscles. He narrowed his scarlet eyes, appearing to ponder the question thoroughly. Then, his tilted his head, eyes open and trained on Sung. Although the exchange was entirely silent, the doctor nodded his head. “Interesting, you think Corvaok?”

“Corvaok? Tsk, absolutely not!” Meouch crossed his arms, showing his visible disagreement with the theory. “It’s not even the right shape. Sure, they’re quick through the skies, but they’re nothin’ compared to the kid’s speed.” Even Phobos found himself agreeing with his infuriating rival, bobbing his head thoughtfully. 

“Fine. What about Creitichian?” 

“Creit— Now yer just throwin’ out names for the hell of it! Of course it can’t be Creitichian! First of all, their ships don’t even have any damn wings—” 

Strive scribbled furiously, trying his best to keep up with each term, definition, and their corresponding traits. He was pretty sure half of it was misspelled. _Cree-tee-she-ian? Core-vay-occ?_ He began sounding them out in his head, practicing their pronouncing for later. If he was ever going to learn about the cosmos, he should start by taking proper articulation seriously. He was so focused in his own mind that he nearly missed the prompt from Meouch. “Huh? What do I think?”

“Yeah. Yer'e the one who found it. Just kinda crashed down on yer planet, huh? Ya didn’t see any others? Not even a fleet of some sort?”

“No, it was the only one that landed on the planet.” He thought back to that fateful night merely a few sleep cycles in the past. “There was this beautiful trail of light that flew through the skies. Then, I could feel the tremors when it crashed into the far off fields. It was easy to track down; the smoke made it a clear signal to follow.” 

Meouch leaned towards him, expressing a keen interest in the story. “Alright, then what happened?”

Now everyone was leaning forwards, eager to hear the rest of the encounter. Strive traced his steps back, recalling every single frame in full detail. Well, almost every detail. “I ran over to the rocky bluffs it had fallen into. The ship, it,” he quickly made the necessary censorship, omitting one crucial, dark detail, “was hovering over the water, practically lighting up the entire area. I felt like it was calling me towards it, asking for me to acknowledge it. I didn’t know what I was expecting when I put my hand on it, but there was no way I could’ve ever imagined it would lead me here.” 

Meouch was completely invested in the story, eyes wide like a little kit. “What the hell made ya go lookin’ for it anyway? Surely it couldn’t have been that important.”

“But it was! It was unbelievably important to me!” Strive exclaimed, surprising the rest of the crew members. It was by this point that he realized he hadn’t told the full story to the rest of the crew, only Sung. He took a deep breath, taking some time to explain his situation. “My planet is dying. My family, friends, the entire village—they’re all going to die if something’s not done. And I—” his feathered ears drooped with sadness, a thin mask of guilt burning at the surface. “I would have been destined to watch it all happen. They’re all getting weaker as time passes, but I’ve never faltered. My grandfather said it was a gift, but I think he eventually saw it as a curse. 

“Ever since the starlight was stolen my people have suffered greatly. Our food sources are alarmingly scarce, the plants have all withered, the creatures have retreated to who knows where. I’ve watched my village plunge into despair, our numbers dwindling at a steady rate. Their cores have Dimmed—they hardly have a glow. When my people are subjected to this sickness for too long, they Fade. They die. They escape.” Awful bitterness laced his tongue, his thoughts clouded by the overwhelming dread he had experienced through the years. “That’s why I have to bring the stars back. We need them to survive. We need them to live a normal life. I need them . . . to remember”

“Remember?”

Strive nodded solemnly. “Yes. As a child, I would always look to the stars, believing that one day I could fly amongst them. My mother, she gave them to me. My passion came from her. We would spend our time looking up, telling stories, tracing their positions, and claiming them as our own special gifts. She would point to the skies, honing in on my favourite star and telling me it was her gift to me. When they were stolen, I felt like a piece of her had been ripped from me too. If I’m to ever honour her memory, I have to bring back what she gave to me. I made a promise to finish what she started. I refuse to let her death be in vain any longer then it has to be.”

There was a silent pause. Nobody dared to speak. Strive’s core flickered weakly, his eyes slowly trailing towards Meouch. His voice was barely a whisper, vulnerable like a child. “Truthfully, I thought it was a star . . . I desperately hoped for it to be one.”

Meouch was uncharacteristically quiet, keeping his eyes lowered as he fiddled with his paws. “I’m really sorry to hear that, kid. I feel that I should apologize for how I treated ya when we first met. I thought ya were all talk; a whiny little brat we happened to pick up off the fields. But now I see that ya mean every word ya’ve said. Ya’ve got heart. I respect that.”

Phobos nodded, his gentle personality completely moved by Strive’s powerful words. He placed a fist to his chest, standing up straight as he displayed a salute of sorts. He seemed choked up, sympathizing with the boy’s difficult situation. 

“We’ll help you get them back, Strive. That can be our promise to you.” Sung’s voice was low, drenched with a potent seriousness. “This promise to yourself, your people, your mother; we’ll see it through. This will be the driving force of the Starlight Brigade.” He approached Strive, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. Phobos and Meouch soon followed suit, offering their support by resting their hands on his other shoulder. Havve lumbered over, clicking his grasper so it would rest gently on his puffy hair. 

Strive felt tears cascade down his cheeks, his body wracked with trembles as he tried to contain his sobs. After so many years of being alone, burdened with the task of keeping hope alive in a single body, he had finally met his equals. No longer was he the naïve dreamer; he was a fighter. They could end the galaxy’s despair. They could bring back what was nearly forgotten. They could actually bring back the stars.

A wet, sniffling noise interrupted the silence. Surprised, Strive wiped his face and looked towards Meouch, amazed to see a dewy shine coating his eyes. “Meouch, are you crying?”

“Bah! Of course not!” He gave an ugly sniff, scratching at his eyes while he turned his back towards the group. “Just got some dust in my eyes is all. I’m not some squishy, sensitive, flower smellin’ whelk.” He could deny it all he wanted, but there was no mistaking the tremble in his whiskers. It would seem Strive’s story had enough power to penetrate the beastie’s thick skin. Snivelling, the navy feline tried to redirect the conversation. “Ahem. So, ya said ya thought it was a star? Yer’e actually serious?”

Strive nodded. “Yes, that’s what I wanted it to be. But after seeing it up close . . .” He held a mental image of its original form, the ghastly shape secret from the rest of crew. Abysmal black coat, jagged edges, and sulfuric smell. A demonic creature, the entity contained within his chest. “There’s no way it could possibly be one.”

Meouch huffed, crossing his arms behind his mane “Well, It was a nice thought, kid. I hate to tell ya this, but the stars have been missin’ for over a decade now. For one to just appear outta nowhere was impossible to begin with. Isn’t that right, Sung?”

The doctor was unusually quiet, his hand placed underneath his chin while he pondered some unknown thought. “Yes, they’ve been gone for a while. For it to be a star is impossible. This ship,” he glanced at Strive, seeming to look through the boy, “can’t possibly be a star. It has to be something else.”

Strive felt a shiver crawl across his spine. Sung’s words held an ominous lithe; had he heard him correctly? Or was it just his imagination? Unfortunately, Sung left him no time to dawdle on this thought. The doctor made a complete turn around in tone, exerting new found excitement for their current mystery solving task. He called for the crew to look through their notes and offer any thoughts on their predicament, using Strive as a reference whenever they needed to know a certain quality about the ship.

He was a word without a definition—it was the Brigade's job to become the dictionary.

While Strive was happy to provide as much information as he could, something in the room was making him feel uneasy. He looked around, carefully watching everyone’s body language and listening to their varying tones. There didn't appear to be any sort of emotional conflict among the crew, yet something was still off. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause. And that worried him deeply.

  
.  
  
.  


**Meouch—what a big ol' teddy bear he is, hehe! Our beloved Nexeliam is back at it again with their amazing bonus images! I adore the way you capture each character, both visually and in your translations. Superb work, deary! Don't forget to give Nex some love, folks! They have some crazy great stuff on[Tumblr ](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/)and [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam) :^) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst! Check out Sung's Twitch streams every Tuesday and Friday! The Cone Zone is a wonderful place to spend your time and get some feel-good laughs into your system. Check his Twitter for more info if you'd like to watch! I'm always there joking around in chat, hehe :^)


	13. Hidden Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time spent at Headquarters has been some of the best days of Strive's life. With all their time taken up by rigorous tests, it's nice to have some time to relax and banter with his companions, perhaps partaking in a little Space Poker while they're at it. Unfortunately, nothing remains motionless forever. When the time comes, will Strive answer the call? More importantly—will the crew even let him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/11/11) Image by the remarkable [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/67268821#workskin) **
> 
> **Includes a bonus illustration in-between and at the end by Nexeliam. Ah, how I adore each and every drawing you create! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

For the past few days, Strive’s mornings had consisted of the same routine. He’d wake up, greet the crew, and follow them to their usual testing grounds. While some may view these sequence of events rather tiresome to repeat, Strive couldn’t get enough of it. The rigorous stunts he and his vessel were asked to perform would always stir some excitement in his core, his eagerness a driving force towards his goal of impressing the crew. Not only that, but the sense of pride he felt whenever he succeeded in a task would push him to achieve more, determined to prove himself to the Brigade. 

He went through different iterations of testing. Some involved him avoiding incoming obstacles while others were more position sensitive, forcing his vessel to bend and weave through ridiculously tight quarters. He whizzed through narrow hoops, dived through simulated debris fields, and maneuvered his vessel in wake of incoming attacks—these so-called “attacks” were merely a trick of the light, harmless flash cannons meant to mimic the appearance of a ship’s weapons. Amazingly, Strive avoided them all, save for a few at the start of their training. Sung decided to wave these minor failures away, claiming they were practice shots before the real deal.

The Brigade watched from the ground, their eyes expertly trained on every aspect of the ship. They documented the ship’s abilities, its limits, and its suspected vulnerabilities. So far, they had come to the conclusion that Strive’s pain link was one of the biggest drawbacks. They had seen it in effect a few times in the past, the most recent example happening during one of their tests.

Strive had gotten a little carried away with his flying, accidentally crashing his wings against the metallic walls of the chambers. He had spiraled out of control, crashing to the ground without any counter force to soften the impact. Naturally the crew had rushed to his aid, concerned to their wit’s end. When they ran to the ship, they could see the scrapped exterior of the wings and how it trembled in reaction to the pain. Soon after the crash, Strive emerged from the ship, his face scrunching up in a grimace as he cradled his injured arm. 

“That didn’t go as planned,” he had mused, gritting his teeth as he tried to shake off the pain. Thankfully, his arm wasn’t broken nor was it bleeding; it was the painful impact that caused the most troubles, momentarily stunning his flying capabilities. After allowing for a few moments to regain his bearings—and to receive an earful from each of the concerned crew members—Strive was ready for the open skies once again, insisting that he was well enough to continue the study. Just as he promised, the testing continued without any more interruptions that night.

Thanks to the previous incident, the crew was dead set on finding a way to counteract the vessel’s weakness. With enough tinkering, Phobos was able to modify an existing piece of shielding technology. Having already implemented the tech on the rest of the crew’s ships, it took some creativity to get it to function for Strive’s strange vessel, but their efforts eventually proved successful. Residing just below the viewing window, the device in question was a small, deceivingly durable, sticker. 

All of the Brigade members had this unique marker attached to their ships, the design serving as a functional homage to their insignia. This addition was one of the leading forces in their defense, having saved their lives more times than they could count. The sticker would produce an invisible barrier across the entire surface it was stuck to, offering enhanced protection from nearby blasts, debris, and many other adversaries of the cosmos. This ingenious label was certainly durable, but it wasn’t indestructible. Major attacks could still get through with enough force, potentially putting the pilot in danger after prolonged exposure. For this reason, the sticker was seen as an added safety measure, one that shouldn’t be overexerted by any means. 

In Strive’s case, it would at least give him a fighting chance whenever he bumped his wing against an incoming rock. 

Strive kept this in mind as he sped through the open skies of the chamber, furling his wings as he dodged different simulations of debris and lazers. His arms moved without a second thought as he twirled the vessel through miniscule spaces, avoiding the pseudo-threats around him with the grace of a winged beast. He would shoot his arms forward, catapulting himself across the room with a blinding amount of speed. Feeling a bout of mischief in his core, he grinned wildly as he soared above the crew members, sending torrential winds their way. The figures on the ground nearly toppled over, desperately holding onto their notes while they fought back the force of the blustery gusts.

“Stars alive, kid!” shouted Sung, an exasperated tone edging into his voice. “Are you trying to throw us around the room?”

Tapping his Lexicomm, Strive supressed a snicker. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself!” 

Sung sighed, managing to find the humor in the situation. “When did you become such a jokester, hm? Anyways, I say we wrap up for today. We’ve been at it for quite some time. It’ll be nice for us to have a break for once.” 

Upon hearing this, Strive felt a sliver of disappointment in his chest. Despite wanting to continue, he decided to respect the doctor’s wishes, gently directing his vessel down to the ground. Once on solid land, he retracted his carrier into his core before walking over to the crew members. He looked his companions over, a question forming on his lips. “Where’s Meouch?”

“Ah,” spoke Sung, gathering the remaining papers that had been scattered through the wind. “He had to run off and get something. He said he’d meet us back in the common room if we left before he returned.” Judging by how fidgety the doctor was, they would most likely be leaving the room regardless if Meouch was there or not.

Sung led the way out of the testing chamber, walking alongside Havve as they swapped and compared their notes. The doctor would explain his latest observations, engaging in a seemingly one-sided conversation with the mute robot. Of course, Havve was equally involved with his companion’s discussion, offering his silent participation through means of telepathic communication. Strive still had no idea how it worked, but he found it was easier to accept than to question. 

Along the way to the common room, Strive kicked up a conversation with Phobos, eager to hear his input on today’s results. “Anything new to report?” The red and gold rocketeer made a few quick motions, zipping his free hand through the air as he mimicked Strive’s ship. Then, he squeezed his hand in a ball, mirroring the exact same motions he had done with his open hand. “Oh, the sticker? I think it’s working great. I accidentally grazed my wing against one of the walls again, but it didn’t hurt at all! That’s something, right?”

The rocketeer nodded happily, thankful that he was able to work around the boy's dangerous weakness. Then, he turned his head towards Strive with a teasing air surrounding him. He motioned his hand to fly through the air, tensing it sporadically as he mimicked the action of a ship hitting an object. Strive rolled his eyes, fighting back his embarrassment. “Okay, I hit the walls a few more times than I care to admit. But I’m still standing—we can thank your tech for that.”

Phobos scratched the back of his helmet, hunching his shoulders in a bashful display. Due to his reserved behaviour, it was hard for him to accept a compliment without getting overwhelmed by his modesty. In a humorous counter, it was equally hard for Strive to stop complimenting him. 

Once they made it back to their room, the crew dumped their notes haphazardly across the table, adding to the hodgepodge of papers scattered on the surface. Due to their busy schedule, they hadn’t had the time to organize their stacks. The first day had been pretty manageable, but the fourth day yielded an overflowing table and the lack of a dining area. By the eighth day, they had given up any sense of order, simply deciding to live around the mess. Strive was amazed by the amount of notes concerned with his vessel. He also felt a little guilty for causing all the clutter. If he knew more about his vessel, they could have avoided all these tiresome scribbles. 

The group took the time to recline in their chairs, a welcomed breath of fresh air in light of strained wrists and throbbing fingers. Although Strive was always up for the chance to free himself through the flight of his vessel, he had to admit that sitting down was a luxury he missed during the tests. Unlike the other crew member’s ships, he was left standing in order to fully utilize his vessel’s movements. Flying his ship was a full commitment, one that didn’t allow for any slacking on the pilot’s end. 

He wiggled himself into the dining chair, having claimed it as his spot upon his first arrival. It was admittedly stiff, possessing none of the worn and comfy qualities of the crew’s personal selections. Perhaps overtime he would get used to it. But for now, it was a pain in his back. 

As they waited for Meouch to return, the crew decided to take the time to teach Strive how to play their favourite card games. They used Havve as the ultimate randomizer, his mechanical hands the perfect candidate for an errorless card shuffle. Sung explained what the chips were for, what each symbol on the cards meant, and possible combos in order to best the other players. From what he understood, the goal was to have the highest combination of cards. The key element was having a stoic face no matter the results, hiding your thoughts from the others. If all went well, you’d claim the chips put in place, having the satisfaction of taking everyone’s hard work. It seemed simple enough, so Strive agreed to one round.

Since he was a new player, they promised to go easy on him until he got the hang of things. Having forgotten what half of the cards meant, Strive found himself leaning towards Phobos and asking him what each symbol represented, effectively ruining his anonymous hand. He would put his chips in, only to lose them when somebody played a confusing combo of cards. Slowly, the amount of chips he had dwindled to a laughably small amount, the majority of chips going to the silent rocketeer. Strive heaved a sigh, wracking his brain for any sort of comprehension. “How do you guys keep track of all these rules?”

Sung laughed, his cards folded close to his chest. “It just takes time. We’ve been playing this game ever since we first met up. I think we’ve had nearly three years of practice by this point.” He grabbed his chips, sprinkling the contents into a unified tower. “Try focusing on your opponent’s stance. Sometimes you’ll be able to tell if they’re faking it or not. If you call their bluff, you might be able to take the round in your favour.” 

Call their bluff, huh? Strive looked down at his cards, his hand a completely new batch since the last time he consulted Phobos. Looking through the cards, it would appear he had matching symbols and values following one another downwards; he was pretty sure it was a good hand. 

Keeping his face stoic, Strive observed the group as they placed their chips in the middle, the overall amount raising to the highest it had ever been. He was forced to match the amount that Havve put down, rendering him nearly chipless in wake of the eager robot. With this in mind, he was confident that he’d be the first to lose.

Taking Sung’s advice, Strive trailed his eyes across his companions, taking in every one of their features. Their set hands, blank faces—very difficult to judge beneath headpieces, visors, and metallic skin—and their postures. Unfortunately, this yielded very little results; they were practically statues with how concentrated they were. Locating a crack in their defenses was nearly impossible for someone as inexperienced as himself. He was beginning to think it was best if he resigned now.

Their individual confidence was staggering, prompting Strive to consider the act of folding. That’s when it hit him; their outside emotions were solid, but inner thoughts were bound to seep through in times of immense pressure. 

Taking another look around the room, Strive could see their weaknesses. No, he could _feel_ their weaknesses. Phobos was solid in posture, but a nervous tension was gnawing away the the rocketeer as he beheld his cards; he was trying to sike out the others with his calm demeanor. Havve was difficult to examine, but the sudden shift in his internal drumming had given way to artificial nerves; he seemed to be over playing his performance, purposely placing more chips in an effort to portray an overwhelming confidence. 

Then there was Sung—the most hectic of them all. He held his cards proudly in his hand, his black visor staring the entire table down. He seemed to be inviting their challenges, insinuating that anyone who went against him would lose the moment the cards turned over. Breaking his stoic rules, his lips parted in a snarky smirk, the man grinning contemptuously as the end of the round grew near. His performance was commendable, but flawed in so many ways. 

Anxious waves flooded the room, the invisible force causing Strive’s hair to stand on end. Sung's exterior was haughty, but his emotions didn’t seem to match at all. He was jumpy, skittish, nervous, and incredibly tense. When he spoke, his words held pseudo-confidence, the sly tone forced to the surface in a most unnatural fashion. “Alright, men. Ready to see who gets the jackpot? I feel sorry for you guys. You know that I’ve already won.”

Phobos countered with his own fake façade, raising himself higher and cracking his neck to the side, seeming unbothered by the statement. He raised a leg over his knee, appearing unamused by all of the stalling. Even Havve showed an increase in the false confidence he exuded, his ruby orbs flashing in an intimidating manner. 

Strive couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “I think you should all fold,” he cautioned. The group looked over simultaneously, their personal façade breaking for a fraction of a second; he felt the waves come crashing down. 

Sung cleared his throat, trying to keep up his act. “I see what you’re going for, kid. We can practice calling bluffs in the next game. It’s a little too late for that now. Besides, I’ve got this game in the palm of my hand. Maybe next time your plan will work.”

“Really, I think you should fold,” repeated Strive, testing the groups dedication to their acts. None of them budged, though their demeanors seemed to waver slightly. Suddenly, they seemed less confident now that someone had called them out.

“Pfft, nice try. But you’ll see how good my cards are once we show them. I think you’re trying to make us fold by forcing us to doubt ourselves. Nice strategy, but it won't work.” Sung placed his cards face down, fanning them out as he prepared to show them to the group. Strive saw the ghost of a tremor grace his hand. “Let’s see what we’ve got. That is, unless somebody wants to do the smart thing and fold your way out of embarrassment.”

The doctor couldn’t persuade the remaining players, forcing them to gingerly place their cards into the running. Strive mimicked their actions, hoping he remembered the correct combinations for a win.

One by one, the table revealed their hands. Havve flipped his row over, seeming disappointed in the low-leveled combination he produced. Phobos had done slightly better than the robot, having a combination that was two times more valuable than his. Then came Sung; a sheepish grin found its way to his face when he showed the group his cards, confirming Strive’s initial thought.

Sung had the worst cards of the bunch.

Havve narrowed his eyes, silently teasing his boisterous companion. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Imagine your faces if you had actually fallen for my bluff! Alright, kid. You managed to call me out, but can you stand up to Phobos and Havve?”

Strive flipped his cards over, earning a collective—hypothetical—gasp. Phobos grabbed his helmet in shame, the boy’s card combo just barely beating out his. Recalling how the group greedily claimed their chips each round, Strive happily slid his chips his way, effectively turning the table in his ultimate favour. “I think I’m getting the hang of this game,” he commented innocently, trying to appear as naïve as possible. It was kind of fun messing with the crew.

“How the hell did you manage that?!” exclaimed Sung, expressing both immense pride and fevered annoyance. It would seem the helmet advantage was useless against Strive, his intuition much too strong for their defenses. 

Amidst the squabbling and utter shock, the group failed to notice the overdue arrival of Meouch, the navy feline stopping himself as he stood behind the table, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Right, what’s all this then? I could hear yer commotion from down the hall.” He looked towards the table, his crescent eyes going as wide as the moon when he saw the pile by Strive’s section. “Ya’ve got to be shittin’ me! Ya won all that, kid?!”

Strive nodded, a chaotic energy enveloping the entire room as the men gushed over his achievement. They were shocked, proud, and somewhat unnerved by his sudden luck. In order to calm their nerves, he agreed to let them think it was simply a beginner's win, musing that he would probably fail the next time they played. This did the trick, securing a sense of ease among the players. What they didn’t know was that he was eager to try his method the next time they played, most likely gaining the same reaction if he prevailed. 

Now that Meouch was back, the crew pushed the game to the side. 

“Okay, here’s what I’ve got,” he said, pulling out various items from the bag he held. “These are for ya, kid. Just like I promised; somethin’ to keep the skin on yer back whenever yer’e out on the road.”

He handed Strive a strange grey handle, the small object curling perfectly into the grooves of his palm. The surface gave a faint, turquoise glow, the source of the light coming from the slot near the top. Curious, he placed the object near his eyes to get a better look; the crew made an extravagant fuss, slapping the handle away from his face. 

“Whoa there, kid!” breathed Sung, a nervous chuckle rising to the surface. “I wouldn’t recommend doing that unless you want to be blind for the rest of your life.” 

“Damn it, Strive! Ya nearly gave this old cat a heart attack!” Meouch’s whiskers were on end, his hackles raised as he tried to calm himself down. He carefully picked up the handle once again, handing it to Strive with a stern voice. “Ya hold it like this, and whatever ya do: _Don’t_ do what ya just did. Ever again. Ya nearly sliced yer eyes out.” 

The handle suddenly felt heavier in his grasp. “What is it?”

“It’s yer blade. I’ve been workin’ on it durin’ the night. Since there was no time to make it durin’ testin’ hours, I thought I’d take the liberty of craftin’ it while everyone was out like a light. Here,” he pointed a claw towards a trigger near the top, motioning for the correct way to cradle it, “use yer finger to pull the trigger down. Keep yer hand steady and the blade away from anythin’ livin'.”

Strive followed Meouch’s direction, applying a gentle amount of pressure to the switch. The effect was instantaneous. A searing, blue blade erupted from the slot, glowing a fierce light throughout the room. Stifling a gasp, he observed the blade, carefully turning the handle so he could view it from every possible angle. “It’s amazing. You told me that it’s a blade, but I’ve never seen one like this before.” 

“That’s a photon blade, specially crafted by yer’s truely. The blade is made up of condensed photon energy, allowin’ for it to be molded into whatever shape ya want. These blades are perfect for travellin’, easy to store, nearly impossible to break, and reliable in the face of combat.” Meouch smirked, a sense of pride escaping his voice whenever he talked about his craftsmanship. “I’ve made thousands of these things, each one holdin’ up to the test of time. The crew can vouch for me if ya don’t believe me.”

Strive didn’t need anyone else’s word; he fully believed the feline. The blade seemed incredibly dangerous, sharper than any of the claws on a Screamadonna’s knuckle. He could imagine the devastation this blade would leave in its wake, no doubt causing some serious harm on the receiving end. When confronted with this thought, he gulped, his complexation going pale. He didn’t want to have a weapon on him if he could help it, but Meouch made some very good points regarding his safety. The cosmos was a dangerous place and held no mercy for those with soft hearts. If he were ever in a dangerous situation, he would most likely have to use his weapon. Hopefully a time like that would never come. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, trying his best to sound enthusiastic about the grim tool. “I’ll keep it on me.”

“Bah, I appreciate the words, kid. But I know yer not the biggest fan of havin’ a weapon.” Meouch put his paw on Strive’s hand, pressing the trigger and laying the blade to rest. “Ya don’t have to use it unless absolutely necessary. I won’t be takin’ any offense. Knowin’ that ya have the option puts my mind at ease, is all.” He rummaged through his bag, a new wave of excitement rolling off the feline. “However, I don’t think ya can say no to this—”

Strive gingerly placed the handle into his boot’s pocket, tucking the weapon out of sight. Then, he watched Meouch with renewed interest, tilting his head as he beheld the strange wrist brace in the feline’s paws. It seemed mundane, almost like a fashionable item. “Did Powers make that?”

Meouch waved a dismissive hand, refusing to allow another being to take credit for his hard work. “This was made by me as well, specifically with ya in mind. Here, try it on.” Meouch motioned Strive forwards, securing the strange, navy brace around his wrist, a small portion of it resting on his palm. Much like the photon blade, the brace was illuminated by a faint, turquoise light that flowed through multiple lines on the surface. “Alright, try pressin' yer fingers to yer palm. I think this accessory will be more to yer likin'.” 

Looking down at his hand, Strive took notice of the button near the centre of his palm, lightly brushing his finger tips against it. With an encouraging prompt from Meouch and the rest of the crew, He tapped the button. Miraculously, a thin, transparent blue slate materialized from the back of his hand. Its sudden appearance completely caught him off guard, the ghostly shield following him through his bout of sporadically flailing arms. He accidentally pressed the button again, calling the octagonal shield back into its resting place. His core flashed wildly, trying to recover from the shock.

The rest of the crew seemed intrigued by the accessory, curious glances making their way towards Meouch. “A shield, huh?” questioned Sung, coming closer to Strive so he could examine the technology. “I thought you only made weapons with the intent to kill? It’s unlike you to go on the defensive side of combat. I’d expect this kind of tech from Phobos, but not you.”

“Bah, I can change up my style from time to time. Besides, I wouldn’t be a good weaponsmith if I didn’t listen to the client’s needs.” Meouch shrugged, a smile gracing his muzzle. “The kid said he doesn’t want to use weapons—gotta respect his morals. At least this way he’s got some extra defense in case he can’t bring himself to use full force. Now, I haven’t avoided the problem; he’s still got a blade. It’ll be up to him whether or not he ends up usin’ it when the time comes.”

Sung nodded, finding himself agreeing with the feline’s words. He took Strive’s wrist in his hand, gently twisting the boy’s arm so he could view the brace from all angles. “This is super solid, Meouch. Great job. I’m guessing it’s made from photon tech?”

“Of course. Ya’d want a shield capable of taking a beatin’. I reckon that thing could stand up to a thousand tons. Probably.” Meouch was standing taller than usual, puffing out his fluffy chest. “Not to groom my own mane or anythin’, but I think I did one hell of a job on this piece.” 

“I agree. This thing’s pretty neat to have on hand.” Sung’s voice was full of admiration, his attention occupied by the new tech. “Mind testing it out again, kid?”

Strive nodded, pressing the button on his palm without any hesitation. He kept himself grounded, well aware of what he was to expect this time around. The photon shield shattered into existence, materializing from the back of his hand. The surface shimmered with a brilliant blue glow, dousing the room in its light. Strive tipped his wrist experimentally, watching as the ghostly shield followed his movements. He swayed his body around the room, pretending like he was blocking some unknown force. He looked to the crew, a smile breaking to the surface. “What do you think?”

Phobos gave a hearty thumbs up, clapping his hands joyously when he saw Strive’s growing excitement. The rocketeer punched the air rapidly, simulating some sort of invisible combat. Then, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, breaking them apart triumphantly as if he had successfully blocked his foe. 

A chuckle rose from Strive’s chest. He pressed the button on his palm, recalling the shield to his brace. “Yeah, I think it’ll work just fine. Thanks, Phobos.” He looked expectantly at Sung and Meouch, trailing his eyes to the side so he could include Havve as well. “What do you guys think?”

Meouch spoke first. “I think it looks great, kid! Ya seem to have a good grasp on it already. With enough practice I think yer’e gonna—”

Suddenly, numerous unknown objects zipped through the air, their blurred forms aimed directly for Strive’s head. The boy yelped loudly, unconsciously raising his arms to block the attack. The blue slate followed his orders, crackling to life just in time to reflect the strange particles. They bounced off the shield, rattling to the floor around his boots. His core flashed wildly as he tried to recover from the surprise assault, flicking his eyes to the ground and locating his tiny assailants; they were the chips from their previous card game.

“Havve, what was that for?!” Everyone turned their heads to Sung’s irritated growl, his disbelief directed towards his robotic companion. “You can’t just throw things at your teammates, especially when we’re not in a combat situation! Go and apologize right now—”

“No, wait. It’s fine.” Strive broke through the commotion, his words holding a surprising amount of calmness. Sung lowered his voice, pursing his lips in confusion. The boy brought his eyes to the hulking robot, peering into his ruby orbs as he tried to read his mechanical thoughts. “I think he was trying to help. He wanted to see how I’d react to a sudden attack—at least, that’s what I think.”

Despite lacking a voice and any sort of known emotional capacity, Havve seemed to smile, dipping his head in an ever so subtle way; he seemed positively delighted.

Sung hummed, still a little disgruntled by the unprovoked attack. He paused, remaining quiet while a silent exchange zipped between the two close crew members. The doctor scoffed, frowning at Havve. “That’s exactly what he was doing. Warn me next time, will you? I thought you were having some kind of malfunction. I was prepared to evacuate the room in the event that you went savage—again.” He didn’t elaborate on what he meant by _again._ “Well, I guess it’s good to know that you’ve got some control over it. That shield definitely suits your needs.”

The crew collectively agreed, voicing their thoughts on the different scenarios Strive could find himself in and, in turn, the various ways he could use his shield as a valuable defense measure. They acted out different situations, portraying themselves as a diverse group of attackers; each member chose to wield chips as their weapons. One by one, they threw the coins in Strive's direction, attempting to land a clean hit on his attire. The shield on his wrist was able to block some of their attacks, but the sheer volume of chips proved much too difficult for him to withstand, causing multiple chips to tap against his skin, ultimately breaking his defense. 

The moments where he successfully blocked a chip felt amazing, but the additional two that flew through the air and landed on his shoulder were enough to slowly drain his patience. Strive growled in frustration, his anger stemming from the embarrassment he felt from failing in front of his companions. “Guess my reflexes aren’t that great after all.”

Sung flicked a chip his way; Strive was able to block this one before it collided with his face. “Give yourself more credit, kid. This is the first time you’ve ever used a shield, not to mention one intended for combat. For being a first timer, I think you’re doing great! Try not to be so hard on yourself.” The doctor bounced a chip to Havve, chuckling as a mischievous glint flooded the robot’s orbs. The machine hurled the chip towards Strive’s lower back; the chip catapulted into its target, earning a frustrated hiss from the boy. “Though, a little more practice would do you well.”

“You don’t say.” A rouge chip whizzed through the air, grazing the Moebian’s cheek; that one was Meouch’s doing. Strive quickly sidestepped as a coin clattered to the ground, narrowly missing his boot. Phobos grabbed his helmet, silently cursing his aim. “It’s not fair when all four of you gang up on me!” he huffed.

The crew shared a laugh, taking breaks in between their attacks to collect the scattered ammunition. “Try gettin’ yerself cornered by ten assassins!” cackled Meouch, filling his paws with multiple chips. “If ya think this is unfair, wait till ya find out what real combat is like. If ya want to live through a single encounter, ya’ve got to learn how to dance around multiple enemies. They won’t go easy on ya like we do!” Meouch quickly flicked a chip towards Strive, grinning merrily when he saw that it was blocked.

Strive soon found himself cornered by his companions, their tight formation forcing him to stand on his chair in an attempt to track them all. While the attack was light-hearted and harmless, he could feel his adrenaline rising into overdrive. However, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Due to the stress he felt, his senses were heightened, encouraging his body to act more accurately to his surroundings. His core flashed sporadically, its azure light nearly beating the shine of his shield.

“This hardly feels easy, Meouch!” The chair beneath his feet wobbled precariously, countering his movements with a negative reaction.

“Please, this is child’s play right now. I could make it more difficult for ya if ya want!” Meouch began flicking his chips with increased accuracy, giving each object a deliberate path and target. He purposely aimed for portions of Strive’s body that were poorly covered beneath the shield, hoping to get a few hits in.

Balancing with the grace of a trembling leaf, Strive quickly brought his shield in front of his exposed half. While Meouch had been chatting in his front, Phobos had silently slinked to the side, hoping that he could break Strive’s posture. Luckily, the chips bounced off his shield, landing uselessly beneath his chair. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he challenged, a faint chuckle bubbling to the surface. 

Multiple chips grazed his leg with lightning fast speeds, their attack originating from a certain robot on the sidelines. Strive turned his head towards Havve, huffing playfully as he kept his focus on both protecting himself and talking with his metal crew member. His shield successfully reflected a few more chips from the sides. “You started this, you know. Don’t act so smug.”

Havve remained stoic, his exterior exhibiting none of the signs Strive was picking up on. That’s where Sung came in, hearing firsthand the complex thoughts that swirled around his companion’s mysterious head. “You can be such a jackass sometimes, Havve. You just wanted an excuse to throw something around the room, didn’t you?” The robot said nothing, simply tossing a chip towards Sung’s headpiece in protest. “Real mature, man.”

The attacks continued for quite some time, each new angle seriously testing Strive’s endurance and capabilities. He kept himself standing on his chair, wobbling hopelessly as he carefully danced across the surface. Chips would fly through the air and bounce on his shield, the occasional coin managing to break his defense and land a solid hit on his body. This would happen a few times, but not as often as before. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to anticipate his companion’s moves, twisting his body in such a way that he would be able to dodge their attacks. While certainly not perfect, the boy carried an absurd amount of promise for the future. With enough training, they would definitely unlock his hidden talents.

Amidst his movement, Strive made an accidental error in his footsteps. He inhaled sharply when his foot slipped off the side of his chair, sending him toppling to the floor in the most ungraceful way; the impact mistakenly retracting his shield. He rolled across the ground, forcefully banging his head against a nearby wall; his vision was sent into a chaotic spiral. 

The crew jumped to his aid, trying to decide if they should be laughing or pulling out their medical supplies. Thankfully, Strive was fine—he could successfully count the amount of arms Havve was holding up. They helped him from the ground, sharing a few laughs now that they knew it was appropriate to do so. After all the serious testing they had done, it was nice to finally have some time to unwind and to simply enjoy themselves. Laughter was a cherished thing, one that was welcomed among the entire crew. It strengthened their bond, drove away unease, and made their lives much more enjoyable.

Strive couldn't help but think this as he leaned into Phobos, the two of them immobilized by their sputtering laughing fit. Meouch was hunched over, his paws on his knees as he wheezed out a frame-by-frame recollection of the boy’s humorous tumble. Even Sung couldn’t escape the guffaw, his hand over his mouth as he tried to subdue his snickers. Havve wasn’t laughing, but his jaw was set noticeably higher, his ruby gaze set aflame; this was beyond the explanation of a simple malfunction. 

These pleasant emotions filled Strive’s core to the brim, warming his chest with a noticeable heat. These feelings of joy, happiness, and delight—they were intoxicating to be around. While invisible to the naked eye, Strive couldn’t miss the strong bond that tied this group together. Never had he experienced wavelengths this alluring. To say they had a connection was an understatement; it felt like a genuine family. A family Strive was welcomed into with open arms. His emotions began to stir, reminding him of what he had misplaced so long ago.

His original family had been broken apart. Perhaps this one could repair the damages left behind.

Slowly but surely, the laughter began to die down. The crew began cleaning up the mess that littered the room, collecting the chips and placing them neatly on the table in anticipation for their next game. As they cleaned, Strive found the time to properly thank Meouch for his gift. He gushed over the amazing technology, unable to properly express his gratitude for the thoughtful—and incredibly functional—accessory.

“Not a problem, kid,” purred Meouch. “We haven’t even scratched the surface with what ya can do with that thing. Chips are nothin’ compared to the shit that shield can withstand. If ya can master that thing, yer’e gonna be able to face challenges against the most feared creatures in the cosmos! I’ll make sure to unlock yer hidden potential. Somethin’ tells me ya’ve got some unreal skills beneath yer soft exterior. Ya’ve gotta learn how to unlock it, kid. Then, we’ll figure out how to unleash it! ”

Strive wasn’t so sure about that. While it was nice to hear the encouraging words that Meouch sent his way, it was hard to imagine himself as some highly trained fighter. As far as he was concerned, he’d still be the same being as before, perhaps with the added benefit of gaining some life saving knowledge and skills for the cosmos. Combat was useful to learn, but that didn’t mean it resonated with his morals. It was very unlikely that he’d unlock some hidden skill set via violence; that seemed to go against everything he believed in. Then again, only time would tell how future events would unfold.

Previously unknown, this unforeseen time frame was scheduled to start—right now.

An alarming shriek jolted Strive from his thoughts, the whining pitch sending uncomfortable shivers across his skin. The room was doused in a hideous orange hue, calling everyone’s attention towards its harsh call. The crew tensed, their bodies reacting immediately to the noise and shift in colour. They barrelled towards the door, dropping everything without a second thought. 

Strive raced behind them, a slight tremble plaguing his body. His ears ached horribly beneath the deafening whine. He blindly reached out to the nearest person, managing to grab a fistful of Sung’s suit. “What’s happening?” he yelled, trying to make his voice heard above the alarm.

“I don’t know, but something’s very wrong. The crew and I need to get going right away. Stay put until we get back.” said Sung, a grim line etched across his lips. He watched as Meouch and Phobos sprinted through the doorway, wasting no time with their usual banter. All that mattered was the alarm, the ear-piercing scream dictating everyone’s actions. The door was left wide open, the hulking frame of a certain robot waiting patiently for his companion to join him. 

Strive’s core began to squeeze painfully, his ears mercifully blocked with a rush of blood as it coursed through his veins. He could sense the impatience that raced through Sung’s mind, his body poised as he prepared to leap through the doorway; something told him they wouldn’t be coming back to this room once they left. The doctor looked down at him, his black visor reflecting the Moebian’s wide, electrified gaze. Strive found himself momentarily transfixed with his own reflection, faced with the task of staring down his inner most desires. In the midst of action, danger, and the promise of an adventure—what was it that he wanted? 

What was he going to do when the signs called for him?

“Kid—”

“I’m coming with you guys!”

Sung seemed troubled. His jaw was set tightly, his hands balled into tight fists. “Strive, you can’t come with us. You hardly have any experience with—”

“I know, but I still want to go! I’ve learned more about the cosmos in a few days than I have in all my years alive. Let me learn more! If you think I’m just going to stay back and accept being left alone again, then you’re wrong!” Strive narrowed his eyes in an attempt to hold back pin pricks of frustration. “You said I was a part of the crew now, so act like it! I won’t hold you guys back, I promise. You’ll see, I’ll—”

“Strive, you aren’t experienced enough to go on a mission as serious as this! It’ll be unbelievably tedious, a long and grueling expedition that you’re just not built for. If you had more training, I’d consider it. But a few days worth of knowledge is hardly enough to stand against the outside world.”

“So you admit that this will be a long journey; there’s no way I’m staying back for that long! I refuse to be cast to the side like some weak, useless asset without a purpose. I can keep up with you guys! I’ll learn much quicker if I’m out in the cosmos and experiencing everything first hand. This will be my chance to prove how serious I am! If you’d just let me show you—”

“And what if you get hurt?!” Sung’s voice rose above the alarm, his anguished cry stabbing through Strive’s core like a vicious spike. The doctor’s voice was dripping with raw acidity, his tone much too strong for his core to handle. It burned horribly. “How could I live with myself if you got hurt under my watch? What kind of leader would I be if I mindlessly catapulted my inexperienced crew member to their demise? How could I promise you safety, only to personally bring about your death?! You show so much promise, Strive. I know you do. For that reason, I can’t let you come with us yet. You’re just not ready!”

Strive growled wretchedly, his vision becoming a splotchy orange blur as he stared the doctor down. “I’ll never be ready if you don’t let me take this chance! You say that I’m not ready, but you’re wrong! I _am_ ready! I’ve been ready ever since the stars were taken from me!” He let go of Sung’s suit, reaching for his own core with a trembling hand. His chest was overflowing with a brilliant blue light, his palm doing nothing to shelter the rays that escaped his grasp. His core squeezed painfully, his body was wracked with tremors, his voice was tight and flowing with sincerity. He bared his soul to the doctor. “I’ve always been ready—It’s people like _you_ who’ve never given me the chance to prove myself!

“Telling me to lie down and comply, insisting I give up on my dreams, saying it’s all for nothing—I’m tired of it. All of it! How do you know it’s impossible if you won’t let me show you otherwise? I don’t know what to expect, nor do I know how it will all end, but that’s just one more reason for me to try! I might get hurt—Stars, I might even die! But I’d rather die doing what’s right than I would live in a world where I did nothing.” Strive hissed bitterly, both from the emotion he was spilling and the intense discomfort that was beginning to build from the deafening siren. “You asked me how you could live with yourself if I died under your care? Let me ask you this, Sung: how could _I_ live with myself if I did nothing? What existence could possibly justify a cowardly life like that?”

Strive was properly seething now, his shoulders tense from the stress of sharing his buried emotions. He couldn’t stop himself now, his words spilling out like the waters of a broken dam; torrential and devastating. “I left my remaining family back on Moebius; I made the choice with the intent of fulfilling my promise. I didn’t escape. I made headway—I began the journey my mother couldn’t start. For that reason, I promised to see it to its completion. If not for me, for my village, or the entire cosmos, then for her.” He swallowed, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. He looked towards Sung, his words much too quiet to be heard over the blaring alarm “I’ve always been ready. You just have to give me a chance.”

Sung seemed to take in Strive’s words, a drawn out sigh escaping his tightly set jaw. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in uncertainty. “And what if you’re wrong? What if you’re not ready? What if your life is thrown away the moment you join us on our journey? How will I know that I’ve made the right choice? Tell me, Strive—how do I know?”

There was no hesitation in his words. “You don’t. No one knows what the future holds.” Strive had to be honest, refusing to sugar coat his words. “But,” he continued, “we’ll never know unless you let me try. Please, Sung. Let me show you what I can do. Nobody knows the outcome, so let me make it the best one possible.”

"Strive, I don't even know what this mission is calling us towards. It could be nothing, maybe something mundane."

"No, Sung. I think you _know_ what that alarm is calling for. I don't care what the mission ends up being, I'm coming with you regardless."

The doctor looked unbelievably torn as he gnawed at his lower lip, his hand placed beneath his chin while he thoroughly considered the boy’s words. Strive could feel it crashing into him like treacherous waves; frustration, admiration, sorrow, fondness, an intense guilt that lingered indefinitely—it was all there, giving the impression that they occupied the doctor's space for far longer than usual. He seemed to be anchoring on past events, these undisclosed memories deciding to surface during his distress. Whatever he was dwelling on, it would seem these emotions would be the deciding factors in his decision. Strive held his breath. 

Sung sighed, crossing his arms in defeat. “There’s no way to convince you otherwise, is there?”

Strive shook his head, releasing his breath once he realized where the conversation was going. “No, there isn’t. Even if you refused, I’d still find a way to tag along. I won’t let you go without me. I’m a part of this crew—” He rose high in his posture, a determined glint present in his eyes. His entire face was lit by his radiant core, illuminating the dark shadows and exquisite highlights across his stern face. “—so let me join you as such.”

The doctor was silent, his quiet demeanor completely swallowed by the hideous alarm that rang in the background. “You’re right," he said after a few moments. "You’re a part of the Brigade and I should recognize you as one of us. I’m sorry for not seeing that sooner.” The doctor turned his back to Strive, giving Havve a curt nod. “Let’s go; all of us.”

Sung motioned for the robot and Moebian to follow him, charging through the hallway at a breakneck speed. Unfortunately for Strive, his bout of emotions had left his legs comparable to the consistency of jelly; he was too wound up to keep pace with the doctor and his companion. Lucky for him, Havve took it upon himself to offer his support in the boy's time of need, quickly racing back when he noticed his lacking presence.

Havve lowered himself to Strive’s height, suddenly introducing his extra appendages with a few of his characteristic clicks. The robot gently grabbed him by the waist, wheeling his arms around so he could place him onto his rounded shoulders. Although it was difficult to keep his balance at first, he found it much easier to stay afloat if he were to rest his legs against Havve’s protruding shoulder blades, using his robotic head as a stable point during their run. 

Whenever Strive felt himself tipping precariously off the robot’s shoulders, Havve was quick to steady him with his closest set of arms, keeping a gentle, guiding grip around his torso. Once Strive found his balance, Havve would bound a little faster down the hallway, showcasing a surprising amount of attention whenever there was a risk of his passenger falling.

After a few moments of dashing down the empty corridors, the duo eventually caught up with Sung, the doctor having sped ahead in hopes that his companions would be able the catch him. He looked over at Havve, seeming caught off guard when he beheld the Moebian holding on for dear life. Feeling sheepish, Strive offered a quick wave and flashed a modest smile towards the doctor, his entire body vibrating with each step the mechanical monster took. “He’s a lot faster than me. I think he didn’t want me getting left behind.”

“That’s . . . awfully nice of him.” mused Sung, pushing aside his thoughts for the time being. He didn’t have time to think about the past; the present was all that mattered right now. Here he was sprinting through the nauseatingly loud hallways, running beside his two companions in a way that felt painfully familiar, rushing to answer the call for a mission that would change their lives forever—it lit the way for the fires of crippling doubt.

Was this going to end with five living bodies, or a group of mutilated corpses? Was this mission going to be their last? Was it finally time for his past mistakes to haunt him? These had always been the thoughts that plagued the doctor’s mind the moment his team was called for a mission; incredible anxiety and worry for the safety of his crew. Despite doing this work for three years as a team, the man could never shake his fears.

Now he was petrified. Terrified to think of what may happen to their new recruit. He could have never imagined this type of distress coming back to torment him, leaving him writhing out in an invisible pain. Of all the things that could hurt him, it had to be this. He cursed the cruel world he inhabited.

Had he made the right choice by letting Strive join them? Did he ever make the right choices to begin with?

Sung looked towards their young companion on Havve’s shoulders, his youthful face set with a burning determination. The boy’s eyes had an unmistakable shine, an electric gaze that promised to persevere no matter the odds. They held no fear—only excitement for the journey ahead of him. Sung had to look away, focusing his remaining energy on the act of running towards their ultimate destination. 

They say that history is bound to repeat itself. If this was the case, Sung promised to do everything in his power to prevent it from ever happening again. Once was enough—twice was unimaginable. Unthinkable. Unbelievable. 

Unfair. It was always unfair.

  
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_”Hey, Sung? You okay?”_

_Sung awoke with a start, quickly sitting upright as a mild daze swirled through his mind. He trailed his gaze around his surroundings, realizing he had accidentally fallen asleep by the control panel again. He gave a groggy groan, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself further. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep at the wheel.” He heaved a great sigh, his lingering headache beginning to surface once more._

_His companion chuckled, taking her seat beside the captain’s chair. She gave him a kind pat on the shoulder, her voice holding both concern and a welcomed amount of humor. “Don’t worry about it. I secretly put the ship on autopilot the moment you started bobbing your head. As your responsible co-pilot, I couldn't let my captain steer us into nothingness. That would kind of suck.” She leaned back in her chair, staring out at the empty abyss in front of them, a faint green shine illuminating their side wing. “I’m getting a little worried about you, Sung. Have you been sleeping at all?”_

_The doctor tried to dismiss his companion’s worry with a wave of his hand, “I’m fine. You don’t have to keep worrying about me. It’s just been a tough few trips is all. With all the mapping issues, wrong turns, depleted resources, and close calls with Void ship scavengers—it’s been difficult to fall into a relaxed state, you know?”_

_She nodded, recalling how tough their last few excursions had been. Ever since they started their journey together, things had been getting progressively more difficult as the days went on. The word was beginning to spread—a mysterious trio was finding a way to bring back the stars. No one knew who they were, simply retelling the story as if it were a fable. It couldn’t possibly be true. Besides, who in their right mind would choose to go against the devastating Void?_

_Sung’s companion sighed, feeling every ounce of worry that plagued the exhausted doctor. Their mission had started out as a secret endeavour, one that wasn’t meant to garner so much attention from the outside world. They’d spent numerous years gathering materials from specific planets, asking for little bits of information here and there, quietly inquiring about large scale weapons; they had tried so hard to be careful. Unfortunately, their caution proved useless once word got out about their plan._

_Now the Void fleet was well aware of the trio, setting their sights on ending their heroic journey once and for all. Having a constant target on her back made Sung’s companion feel terrified at first, but Sung was quick to assure her of the positive aspects of such a grim sentence. If the Void fleet was worried about their progress, then that meant they were doing something right._

_Despite this encouraging—though admittedly horrifying—thought, being on the run was enough to push anyone over the edge. Sung was no exception, his excitement finally dying down once exhaustion set in. While they were certainly closer to their ultimate goal, the dangers along the way were major stressors for the man._

__

__

_He sighed, turning to his companion in defeat. “I know we can do this. Really, I know we’ll be the ones to destroy those creatures. But . . . it's the fear that keeps me back. The fear of failure; the fear of causing harm to one of my companions. It keeps me up during our travels. It’s just . . . wearisome.”_

_His companion grimaced, trying to find the best way to comfort her captain. “You can’t keep worrying about us. You need to find confidence in your companions—believe in us, will you? Of course we’re scared about the unknown, but we can’t let that stop us from carrying out the mission. If you keep thinking of the possible failures, you’ll never consider the success we’ll bring.” She offered a small smile, lightly punching her captain’s arm. “Come on, Sung. Don’t bring yourself down. Keep that stupid looking cone held high, okay?”_

_Sung felt a weary smirk grace his lips. “I still have no idea how you manage to stay afloat for as long as you do. I guess I should be thankful that it’s so contagious.”_

_His companion chuckled, leaning back in her chair while she thought about her far off home. “If I’m being completely honest, sometimes it’s hard to keep my own spirits lifted. There are times where our mission gets to me, making me doubt everything that I stand for. When that happens, I think back to the promise I made and remember how important it is to me. I plan to carry out this mission and see it to completion, no matter what comes my way. That’s what keeps me going through the difficult days.” She felt her eyes beginning to tear up, a hot annoyance pricking the edge of her sight. She rubbed her eyes gently, trying not to stir her contacts. She cleared her throat, quickly regaining her composure before it crumbled. “That’s my cheesy speech of the night. Got anything to add?”_

_Sung stuffled a laugh, his worries fading away in the presence of his curious companion. “No, nothing else to add. You made some good points, ones that I should keep in mind as we push forward.” He motioned for his companion’s attention. “Would you mind passing me your soligram? I think we ought to land for a little bit.”_

_His companion’s eyes lit up instantly, “Oh, Stars! I thought you’d never ask! Your ship was starting to get stuffy after a few days on the road. I wasn't sure how to say it without offending you.” She handed him her soligram, pulling up a map of the surrounding area. She mused over his shoulder, pointing to one of the more promising planets. “How about there? Seems relatively appropriate. Stable oxygen levels, three orbiting moons, no known hostilities, no blinding lights—Sounds like the perfect place to land for a while.”_

_“Hmm, alright. We’ll go there.” Sung handed back the soligram, taking his ship off autopilot as he made a change in direction. He reached over to the side of the control panel, dancing his fingers across his desired keys. A pleasant sound hummed throughout the ship, bringing up the familiar face of his other companion. “Havve! We’re going to take some time to regroup on a nearby planet. I’m sending you the coordinates now.”_

_While Sung sent over the coordinates, his companion bubbled excitedly in front of the screen, striking up a conversation with her mechanical comrade. “Long time no see, Hogan! How’s life on the left flank?”_

_Although the robot lacked any verbal capabilities, he was more than happy to speak to her through special means. Before meeting their new companion, Sung had always spoken to Havve in private, choosing to keep their conversations secret and under the radar in case someone planned to infiltrate their discussion. When the doctor had come across his new crew member, that all changed when she started speaking to the robot outright._

_It was incredibly odd at first. Not only did Havve choose to to accept her presence, he had miraculously made the active choice to communicate with her! Never had he done this with any of Sung’s temporary acquaintances. The robot quite enjoyed her company, finding some sort of delight when they engaged in conversation. His ruby gaze would flash to life, his metal jaw set in what could only be described as a joyful grin._

_“Oh yeah, can you tell Sung to stop worrying about us so much? Maybe he’ll listen to you since you’ve been travelling together much longer than I have.” She looked at the doctor, smirking in such a way that it caused Sung to dip his head in embarrassment. “He’s being stubborn, as per usual.”_

_Havve immediately fired his thoughts towards Sung, offering a few chaste words in regards to his worries for the rest of his crew members. “I know, I know. You two are perfectly capable of seeing the mission through. Yes, I know I’ve been a downer recently. Yes . . .” Havve continued to drone on, his frozen exterior doing nothing to accurately reflect the choice words he was spitting. “I get it, man. Stars alive, you don’t have to be so harsh!”_

_Their companion cackled. She slugged her arm around Sung’s shoulder in an attempt to pester him further. “You tell him, Havve! See? We’re not going to let you think like that. What you need is some time to relax, a good night’s sleep, and some lighthearted stories to bring back that annoying—and I mean that in the nicest way possible—personality of yours! We won’t let you dwell on the negative.” She shook his shoulders, offering a meaningful squeeze before sitting back down in her chair. A shimmer of warmth travelled through her compassionate gaze. “Come on, let’s not worry about the uncertainty. Focus on the fates we choose to make for ourselves.”_

_She flashed one of her gentle smiles._

_“Don’t worry, Sung. We’ll take care of you.”_

  
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**Goodness, Nex! When I saw your image comparison, I died laughing! Never change, my friend ;^)**  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks a bunch for 500 views! That seriously means a lot to me. Thanks for taking the time to read my little story. Your support warms my heart! :^)
> 
> This chapter is a little over 10 000 words. Hopefully this is a welcomed treat for all you readers out there!


	14. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission has been assigned, a special task that only the Starlight Brigade can fulfill. Their journey will be long and incredibly tedious, but Strive pushes forwards despite the risks. With freedom at his fingertips, there's no way he'd pass up this once in a lifetime chance. He couldn't possibly grow tired of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/11/20) Image by the always lovely [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/67642433#workskin) **
> 
> **Includes two bonus illustrations in-between! Goodness, I'm always in awe at your talents, Nexeliam! Just look at these images—the detail and personality you've captured is so charming! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

Strive’s entire form rattled when Havve pushed open the large metallic doors in front of them, mindfully ducking his shoulders so that his passenger wouldn’t graze the low overhang. It was difficult to hold on, but he had managed to stay afloat his whole ride there. Due to his higher position, it was easy for him to spot the two remaining crew members ahead, their postures tense and incredibly serious as they huddled around an illuminated table. Upon the sudden entrance of their delayed members, the two of them looked up, surprised to see Strive atop the robot’s bulky shoulders. 

Meouch looked flabbergasted, an eyebrow raised in confusion as he pointed towards the odd duo. “Ah, are we gonna address that, Sung?”

Sung’s reply was curt and unusually dry towards his comrade. “No. We have bigger things to worry about.” He motioned for the crew to gather closer to the table, encouraging Havve to tilt further so Strive could see better. “What’s the situation?”

“A little concerning, to be honest.”

The crew directed their eyes towards the source of the grim voice. A woman appeared with her hands clasped behind her back, slowly marching her way towards the group. She held an air of authority, an intimidating power radiating off her stern stance. Her lips were firmly set, her expression further accentuating her battle worn face. Strive caught a glimpse of a distinct scar gouged across her chin, the impressive mark clawing its way down her calloused skin. There wasn’t much to go by when observing her, the rest of her face obscured by a jet black visor, her helmet firmly stuck in place as it tried to contain the wild, brown hair by her shoulders. 

The woman took her spot by the table, turning her head to address the entire group. “It’s been a while, Brigade. I trust you’ve been well.”

Sung answered for his teammates, articulating the crew’s collective bouts of nods and hums. “Long time no see, Swift. We’ve been good, though I wish we could have been your company under better circumstances.”

“Hmm, yes. Unfortunately, my job is not a pleasurable one; we’ve no time for leisure now. I suppose you’d like to know why I’ve called you all here.” Swift leaned in front of the circular table, swiping her gloved palm above the surface. Strive watched in amazement as numerous shapes materialized above the table, their ghostly structures made up of transparent, blue light. Looking closely, they appeared to mimic various bits of the cosmos. He could see the outlines of rocky debris, unknown particles, and the staggering size of Headquarters, the humongous ship dwarfing anything within its wake 

Swift dragged her fingertips across the map, using her hands to grab the digital terrain and shrinking its components drastically. Headquarters was reduced to the size of a dust particle, the map spanning way beyond their current domain. 

“We’ve just received intel regarding the location of a suspected Void ship gathering," she explained. "While not the same size as a fully realized fleet, their increasing numbers has us greatly concerned. Their activity has been labeled suspicious—it’s unlike anything we’ve ever documented before.”

The entire crew leaned closer to the map, the room suddenly growing tense with this new information. 

“What do ya mean by ‘suspicious’?” questioned Meouch. “What’s so different about this group of ships? It’s normal for small bouts to gather in the empty corridors of space. We can easily pick off a few scavengers with a simple fly-by.”

Swift shook her head. “A few, yes. But their numbers are growing at an unnerving rate. We had initially thought that they were preparing for another attack on an undocumented section of the cosmos. However, the section they're occupying has already been claimed.” Strive gulped when he heard this, knowing first hand what kind of attacks she was referring to. “It’s unusual for them to stagnate in a region they’ve already conquered.”

“How many do ya figure there are?”

“It’s difficult to say, but we’ve estimated around fifty in counting.”

Meouch reeled back, pawing his whiskers nervously. “Shit, that’s a lot more than we’re used to. Are ya sure ya counted right?”

Swift nodded, showing not even an ounce of humour. “This is quite different from our first estimate—they seem to have doubled their amount in just a few cycles. Normal scavengers would remain on the move. This group is becoming idle, accumulating at both an alarming rate and size.” Swift motioned her hand over the far left corner of the illuminated table, magnifying a specific portion of the map. “Although they are very far from our current location, this information cannot be treated lightly. Action must be taken in order to stall any further development. If this continues, it will most certainly develop into a fleet. An entire army if we’re not careful.”

The crew seemed very troubled by this information, their eyes intently trained on the blue hologram. Sung sighed, placing his hands onto the table and peering into the disturbance. “Any idea what they’re planning?”

The navigator pursed her lips and she looked towards the map. “I’m afraid not, doctor. All we can tell is that the Void ships are beginning to gather. For what purpose—we do not know.”

"Another mission for my crew, eh?” Sung frowned, his voice grim in delivery.

“Yes. We trust you’ll come back with promising results.” 

“Here’s hoping. Our last mission was rather uneventful if I’m being honest. Well, except for one element.” Sung pushed off the table, straightening himself before he addressed his crew. He cleared his throat, preparing himself for a speech worthy of a leader. “You heard Swift; it’s time to take to the fields again. All of us.” He seemed to be directing his last words towards Strive, his head turning ever so slightly as he spoke to the group. 

Having been included in the count, Strive felt a burst of pride well up in his core. His excitement got the better of him, accidentally basking the room in a fluorescent blue light. His crew mates looked over, surprised to find Havve’s body drenched in a haunting glow. The robot remained rigid, seeming unbothered by his sudden change in colour.

Swift was momentarily caught off guard, her serious composure breaking for a fraction of a second when she noticed the additional presence around Havve’s shoulders. She pointed her chin upwards, motioning towards the boy. “Who do we have here? Why has a child been allowed access to our strategy room?” Her voice was very blunt, its sharpness managing to cut away some of Strive’s momentary confidence. 

“He’s with us,” piped Meouch. He jabbed a clawed thumb towards their young companion. “He’s been added to the Brigade. It’s best not to ask any further questions, we’d be here all night if we explained it from the top. See, he’s technically a unique circumstance.” Beside the gruff feline, Phobos nodded his head as he vouched for their small, luminescent friend. 

“I see.”

A minimal explanation was all she needed. Even though this was their first introduction, Strive could already sense what kind of personality Swift possessed. She appeared to be a woman of very few words, any useless fodder proving redundant to her life. She was determined to get straight to the point, any outside stimulants deemed an irrelevant distraction. In her eyes, Strive was an additional element, an extra body in the room. Simple as that. What went on with the Brigade’s member count was none of her concern—so long as the job got done in the end. 

“I’ve created this course of action alongside Captain Stannard. I implore you to listen with your full attention.” She brought the crew’s attention back to her map, expertly carving an illustration that modeled her plan of operation. Strive watched as she drew different symbols, intertwining the confusing shapes with a collection of lines and pointed arrows. She would illustrate all the possible obstacles they would encounter, devising a route they could use to avoid these delays. Unfortunately, most of her sophisticated terms flew right over his head, her images hardly doing anything to clarify his viewing experience.

Luckily, it would seem her speech was primarily directed towards the doctor. Sung followed everything she was saying, nodding his coned head in time with her words. He would keep his arms crossed in a deep concentration as he absorbed the information. It would seem that he didn’t need to take notes, his mind serving as the perfect storage for these complex instructions. 

“The distance,” questioned Sung, pointing towards the vandalized map. “How far out are we talking?”

“Unfortunately, It will be incredibly far. You will have to separate your Bridge jumps in between your travels.” She pointed to the map, drawing numerous dots between the tiny speck of Headquarters and the section they were meant to infiltrate. “Although it is entirely possible to jump there in one go, the uncertainty surrounding this Void gathering leads us to become cautious. It’s highly recommended to forgo a single jump in favour of saving power. If all of you were to take the Bridge in a single instance, you risk depleting your ship’s energy to critical levels, effectively leaving you vulnerable to any incoming assaults.” 

Sung hummed to himself, tapping his finger at the edge of his moustache. He let out a long whistle, followed by a hiss of displeasure. “Damn. This’ll be a lot longer than our usual missions. We better pack months worth of reserves.”

Swift waved her hand dismissively. “Already taken care of. The Captain and I arranged for the necessary rations before we called you here. They should be waiting for you at the base of the shipyard.” 

Meouch let out an uneasy chuckle. “By the sounds of it, it seems like yer’e about ready to kick our asses out of this room.”

The navigator didn’t smile. “You’re quite right, Commander. The mission is scheduled to start the moment I am done debriefing the crew. Since I have nothing else to offer, you have been dismissed.” She waved her arm over the circular table, the action causing the hologram to disappear within the blink of an eye. Strive watched as Swift pulled a curious device from the edge of the table, placing the slim stick into Sung’s hand. “These are the coordinates you will follow. I trust that you’ll distribute the data among your crew with minimal issue.” She paused, offering a quick salute to the crew. “I wish you the best of luck.”

The doctor tucked the data into his side pocket, offering his thanks to the overly contained individual. Without any more information to gain, Sung turned towards the crew, forcing himself to puff out his chest in a gesture of confidence. “You heard her, guys. It’s time to move out!”

One by one the crew propelled themselves towards the door, running alongside each other in a quick, unified line. Before he was completely out of the room, Strive took a moment to thank his new superior, rotating his body atop of Havve’s shoulders in order to project his voice better. “Thank you, Swift!”

It would seem she had forgotten about Strive’s presence, her rigid posture breaking when she heard his foreign voice a second time. The navigator turned towards the young traveller, offering what could only be described as a subdued smirk. She appeared to appreciate his simple form of gratification. Judging by how stressful her job seemed to be, it was probably rare for her to receive anyone’s thanks. If that were the case, he was more than happy to make her job a little brighter for the time being. 

The strategy room soon became a distant memory as the crew jogged down the hallways, their breath beginning to sputter from how long they were forced to keep their speeds. With Sung in the lead, he was subjected to keeping his pace no matter what. Meouch seemed to be keeping speed rather decently, his strides remaining stable as he stomped his fuzzy paws against the floor. Over time, however, Strive could tell he was getting tired, his muzzle slightly agar as he began to pant. In terms of the remaining runner—Phobos looked about ready to fall over.

The poor rocketeer was booking it with all his might, flailing his arms in an effort to keep his forward momentum. He meant well with his erratic movements, but it was evident that they were pointless additions, unintentionally consuming more energy than he planned. Out of all the group members, Strive deduced that Phobos possessed the least stamina of the bunch. 

Meouch seemed to pick up on his teammate’s struggles, offering a laugh that was halfway between a dry cough and an unappealing choking sound. “What? Can’t keep up, Phobos? Ya look like yer about to drop dead.”

The rocketeer seemed unamused, taking a moment from his jog to offer an annoyed exchange. He pointed to Sung, then to Havve’s unaffected figure, the robot having kept a consistent and effortless gait since the start of their run. Then, he pointed to Strive on their companion’s shoulders.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure if ya ask nicely Havve’ll let ya ride shotgun in his arms. Seemed to work for the kid.”

Phobos rolled his head, deflecting the feline’s sarcasm before it even landed. He looked towards Strive again, seeming both confused and impressed by his ability to tame the hostile robot. Apparently Havve’s co-operation was very unusual, especially towards a fairly new member like himself. Observing his grounded crew members, he could sense the small pricks of jealousy that radiated off their exhausted forms. 

Strive shrugged, keeping his body steady as they rounded a corner. “I wasn’t able to keep up with him and Sung when they started running, so he came back and put me on his shoulders. I didn’t ask him to. He just kind of did it himself.” 

Meouch scoffed, swallowing a parched pocket of air. “It’d be nice if he did that for the rest of us. There's been multiple occasions where I’m close to death’s door and that hunk of junk won’t even raise a finger my way! For him to up and carry ya down the halls is an insult to my remainin' nine lives!” Phobos looked to the side, making a few off-hand gestures. “Dipshit, it’s an expression! I’m not some immortal freak.” 

While the two companions bickered below him, Strive peered over the edge of the robot’s head. Havve's eyes were alive with bouts of artificial excitement, their ruby glow occasionally lighting up at different intensities. The crew kept mentioning his lack of emotion and humanity, but every subtle movement he made left Strive with a different impression. “Has he ever done this with any of your other crew members?”

Meouch bit back whatever retort he was about to spit towards Phobos, choosing to ignore the rocketeer in hopes of revving up his annoyance even further. “Other crew members? Nah, we’ve never had any others—that includes Brian as well. Yer’e the only new addition we’ve ever had.” 

“What about with Sung? He mentioned that he and Havve have been together way longer than they have with you guys.”

“Sung?” Meouch looked ahead, surprised to see how much distance the doctor had put between himself and his slower companions. “He’s never had another companion besides that pile of bolts yer’e hitchin’ a ride on. As far as I know, he’s always been a loner throughout his travels. He told me that he didn’t come into contact with other beings until he joined up with Phobos and I, eventually draggin’ us along for the adventure.” 

There weren’t any others? Strive thought back to the distress that plagued Sung during their occasional talks, his words always seeming to stem from a previous event. An incredibly personal one too. To hear that he had been alone didn’t seem right. But then again, he could have mistaken his emotions for something else. Perhaps his was deeply affected by the general stresses of the cosmos, taking the burden a lot harder than most. Whatever his reasons, Strive had to admit that it was hard to pinpoint the doctor’s underlying intentions. 

“He’s never had a different crew?” he asked.

“Don’t think so. Honestly, I think our present arrangement is an oddity for him. He’s always struck me as the wanderin’ type. If it weren’t for our current plight, I have a feelin’ the doctor would be driftin’ to his heart’s content.” Meouch gave an aloft shrug, “Not that it’s any of our businesses, really. Nothin’ wrong with travelin’ the cosmos on yer own time.”

Of course it wasn’t rightfully his business, but something about Sung’s history was intriguing to Strive. He knew that prying into his past would be very inappropriate of him, but it was undeniably alluring to think about. It felt like one big mystery, its contents tightly woven beneath impenetrable means. It really shouldn’t be his concern, and yet it felt like it was. 

Lost in thought, Strive was unprepared for the sudden stop beneath him, the robot having dug his heels into the metallic floor. He nearly flipped off the robot’s shoulders, his saving grace appearing before him in the form of two secure graspers around his waist. He was turned right side up and gently lowered to the ground, positioned so that he’d land perfectly on his feet. 

He looked over at his saviour, flashing a grateful smile to his companion. “Thanks for that, Havve. You saved me from looking like an absolute idiot.”

Havve—as per usual—said nothing, simply tilting his head ever-so-slightly as he observed his passenger. He left his scarlet gaze to linger on Strive, only turning away when his partner attempted to address the entire group. Strive followed the robot’s eyes, directing his attention towards the man in front of the shipyard’s entrance. 

“Are we all set? As you heard from Swift, this will likely be an excruciatingly long trip. Much longer than we’re used to. Everyone still good with that?” Although his gaze was obscured by a dense, black visor, he seemed to trail an invisible glare towards Strive, attempting to fire off some sort of final warning before their departure. 

Unfortunately for the doctor, his scare tactics were futile, his ominous words bounced back by a barrage of excited exclamations and ferocious declarations. Although they were faced with an unknown future, the crew was determined to see the mission through. This included Strive as well, his core lit ablaze as he propelled himself into the shipyard without a shred of doubt. 

The crew offered waves of encouragement to one another, giving a few words of confirmation before coming into contact with their ships. Strive watched his companions enter their vessels, their forms quickly disappearing behind the closing platforms. Not wanting to waste any more time, he called out his own vessel, positioning it between Sung and Meouch's carriers. Once fully realized, he hastily placed his hand on the beast, willing the strange creature to pull him into command.

Everything was there and ready for him to control. He stood between the pillars, a familiar hum resonating throughout the hull. The white beast came to life, a gentle glow flooding the entire area. Strive placed his palms onto the round panels—staying mindful as to not accidentally activate his shield brace—and called out its thin wings; the engine began to whine, anticipating its chance to rocket through the skies. 

He took a deep breath, taking a moment to compose himself in preparation for his take off. He had to remind himself that this was really happening, that he was actually going on a mission with his new companions. While undoubtedly dangerous, he was unable to deny how right this felt. No longer an idle element, it was time for him to show the cosmos what he was made of. He’d show everyone. No longer was he the naïve dreamer; he was a being with a new found purpose. 

The shipyard rumbled as the crew prepared their ships for liftoff. Their combined engine strengths rattled the entire area, sending intense vibrations through the air. Strive could feel their power from inside his vessel, his core beginning to squeeze in anticipation. He looked to the sides of his viewing window, peering into the neighbouring ships. He could see Sung fiddling with a few unknown controls, appearing to take the time to organize himself before they all left. Then, a high pitched chime found its way into Strive’s ship, demanding his immediate attention. Recognizing the distinct insignia, he accepted the call without hesitation.

Familiar faces crackled onto the screen, their forms separated by an even break of squares. Everyone seemed alive with new found exhilaration, an exuberant air buzzing through the holographic monitor. One by one, they all gave confirmation of their status, indicating that they were more than ready to begin their tedious journey. As if by an unspoken rule, the crew remained silent while they awaited Sung's final command. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do: The lead will be taken by myself, followed by Meouch and Phobos by the sides. Strive will be positioned in the centre with Havve as the rear guard. We will keep to this formation for the duration of our mission. Got it?”

Everyone bobbed their heads on the monitor, finding no disadvantage to this proposal. Being in the middle gave Strive some sense of security. Without weapons, he was in an incredibly vulnerable position. And although his ship was currently equipped with an added layer of protection, he had been made aware of its limited use. He could withstand more as a result of its addition, yes—but by no means was he supposed to test his luck. If an incident were to occur in the open cosmos, the crew would be able to protect him. If that failed, then his vessel’s insane speed would surely give him an advantage over the rest. Be it to flee like a coward or lead his pursuers into impossible situations. Strive much preferred the second option.

Before Sung has the chance to distribute additional information, Meouch piped up over his intercom. “What’s goin’ on with our Bridge travel? Swift said that we’d have to divide it up more than usual, yeah?”

Sung nodded. “Yes. Due to the distance between us and the destination, we can’t risk carelessly depleting our ship’s energy levels. The occasional jump won’t hurt us, but we’ll have to be mindful this time around. That means taking breaks between leaps to avoid stress on the ships and frequent stops when we can. If we overwork our engines, we’d be in trouble. Not even Phobos can fix a Bridge saturated engine in the middle of the cosmos. We’d be stuck in the Wastelands forever.”

“I see,” hummed Meouch, seeming a little annoyed by how cautious they had to be. “Just how far are we talkin’ anyways?”

“Very far.”

“That’s pretty vague, Sung. I mean months? Years?”

“Well, it depends who you ask. See—”

“Just answer the damn question, ya loon! Quit yer stallin’!”

The doctor sighed over the screen. “We’ll probably be on this mission for many months, probably a year if I’m being completely honest.”

Meouch seemed floored. He reeled back in his chair and groaned loudly. “Ya’ve got to be kiddin’ me! We just got back from a four month mission, and now yer’e tellin’ me we’ve got to do it again? For a whole damn year?”

“Sorry, Meouch. We can’t take any shortcuts with this one. We need to avoid any complications at all costs. If that means soaring through the Wastelands for days on end, then so be it. Surely you can entertain yourself during that time?”

“With what?! Unlike ya, I don’t fill my ship with useless clutter to pass the time!”

An artificial voice clicked to life on the monitor, their tone a lot sharper now that they could articulate themselves better. _“Try picking up a book for once, Meouch. You’d be amazed how time flies when you’re reading. Then again, it wouldn’t be much use for an illiterate dunce like yourself.”_

Meouch bristled, his fangs becoming visible beneath his tensed muzzle. He looked as if he were ready to chew the rocketeer out; Phobos looked ready to counter at any moment. 

Luckily, Sung intervened with a hefty sigh. “Guys, we don’t have time for your childish bickering. Save it for the road. Especially when I’m not on the line. Now then,” he pulled the focus back to their immediate present, “I’ve uploaded the coordinates to your soligarms. You should have all received the instructions without any issues. As long as we don’t get separated, you shouldn’t need to consult the map.”

Getting lost—now that was a frightening thought. Strive supressed a shiver. If he ever strayed from the group, how was he supposed to find them again? Judging by the way they talked about the cosmos, it was most certainly an endless plain of existence. Getting lost sounded like a death sentence for inexperienced travellers.

“What would happen if we did get separated?” asked Strive. 

“Ah! Yes, about that—” Sung turned to the screen, looking directly at Strive’s image. “Our ships are tethered to one another. It’s a common practice for pilots to link their ships to each of their group members. This means that no matter where you end up—so long as it's within a few light years of each other—someone will be able to find you regardless of location. It also works in the Bridge; you probably noticed that my crew was able to follow my ship despite taking separate paths. Because we’re tethered, our locations will always sync up even with our different positions.”

That seemed simple enough. Strive could imagine it like an invisible rope attached to each of the ships, the role of the leader being to guide them in a straight line. So long as they held onto the rope, no one would get misplaced. “Tethering applies to me as well?”

Phobos decided to jump in this time. _“Of course! Remember that sticker I stuck on your vessel? In addition to being a shield, it also keeps a tethered connection between our ships. As long as you have that sticker and a steady power source, you’ll have protection and a means of finding the crew.”_

All of this was incredibly useful to know. Strive made a mental addition to his rapidly expanding knowledge of the cosmos. 

Sung cleared his throat, claiming the spotlight one final time. “Now that we’re clear on that; anymore questions?” The crew shook their heads, seeming eager to finally start their ascension. “Alright. Let’s get ready for take off!”

The monitor blinked out of existence, making way for the world behind the viewing window. Strive could hardly contain himself as he watched the loading dock open its giant maw, revealing the dark, cosmic space in front of him. His core began flashing with anticipation, his vitals sending a rush of blood to his feathered ears. He could hardly make sense of the world around him, his eyes only interested in the promise of the abyss before him. In a few moments, he’d be taking the jump of a lifetime.

One by one, the ships summoned the harsh light of ignition, a white hot flash engulfing the entire area around them. The air filled with the piercing screech of flight as the vessels shot forwards, catapulting themselves from the solid docks. Grinning, Strive flung his arms forwards, willing his vessel to follow his command. Without any delay, the stark white beast screeched to the heavens, launching its form well beyond the position of his companions.

He shot through the skies like a blinding comet, leaving a trail of cerulean fire in his wake. Overcome by his excitement, Strive let his mind go blank as he felt every little movement of his vessel. The way it flowed effortlessly through its environment, the weightlessness he felt as he skimmed the cosmos, the intoxicating freedom and euphoria in his core—it was almost too much to handle. With a sweeping motion, Strive directed his ship into a free form spiral; twisting, tumbling, twirling through the unknown yonder. He couldn’t help but bubble over in an overjoyed laugh, his eyes wider than the moons of this realm. It was impossible to wipe the smile off his face, his immense merriment serving as the energy that drove him forward.

After having such a rough start during his first flight, it was an indescribable pleasure to finally have enough control over his vessel. Their enclosed tests had been useful, but felt like nothing more than a tease to what really lurked beyond those metallic walls. Now that he was finally free, Strive never wanted to leave the skies. 

He closed his eyes as the tendrils of the Bridge washed over him—pure elation took hold. They reached out and claimed him between their gentle grasp, leading him to the wonders beyond.

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


“Strive, try to keep in formation, okay?”

Sung’s patient chide resonated over the monitor, his image materializing in front of Strive’s viewing window, effectively cutting off some of the open world in front of him. The boy sighed, seamlessly folding his vessel’s wings so he could station himself back in the centre of their arrangement. Stuck between the crew’s ships, he felt claustrophobic, his limbs aching for the chance to stretch beyond their containment. 

He waved his arms idly, swaying back and forth in a pathetic attempt to regain some sort of freedom. His vessel mirrored his actions, subtly leaning in place as it tried to remain in motion.

Strive heaved a great sigh, feeling unbearably fidgety. “Can’t we break our positions once and a while? Staying in such an enclosed environment is making me go crazy! Surely a few loops on the side wouldn’t hurt . . .”

The doctor offered a sympathetic smile, shaking his head as he tried to make his words better understood. “We don’t want to risk any accidents while we travel. The best thing we can do is to stick to the original plan. As a unit, we’ll be better protected and ready to face any potential threats.”

Strive was unimpressed by this explanation. He knew the only reason he was placed in the middle was so that no harm would come to him. While it was very considerate of Sung to do this, it ultimately left him confined within a suffocating bubble. Without a chance to move freely, he could feel his muscles beginning to ache, begging for a chance to loosen up. He doubted that any of the other crew members felt this same strain, their artificial ships built with the intent of staying in one place during flight. This didn’t bode well for his organic vessel, its needs much more sensitive than the rest. 

“Come on, Sung. Just for a little bit?” He tried to bargain for his freedom, using a lethal combination of wide eyes and a sorrowful whine. For an added effect towards his performance, Strive lowered his head, drooping his feathered ears in a gesture of ultimate sadness. “I promise not to go too far.”

The doctor seemed to waver. He let out a gust of air, his voice full of uncertainty. “Kid, I don’t know about that. You haven’t learned how unpredictable the cosmos can be. There’s always a chance that—”

“Bah, let the kid stretch his winged-legs! It’ll be fine as long as we keep an eye on him.” Meouch’s fuzzy mug appeared on the ghostly screen, effectively cutting off Sung’s monologue. “Ya can’t be this uptight for the entire mission. Ya won’t be any fun to travel with at this rate! Besides, we’ve been flyin’ for a few hours now. Let the kid have some fun, huh?”

Sung shut his mouth, his lips pressed firmly in place. He grimaced, seeming to weigh his options. Strive felt his chest tighten as he awaited his decision, silently hoping for his desired outcome. 

After a while, he sighed loudly, “Fine. Just make sure to stay close, alright? Don’t go beyond our line of sight. Our ships may be tethered, but that doesn’t negate the stress of misplacing a crew member.”

Upon hearing these words, Strive gave a joyous shout. He waved his arms to the side, diving below the ships that contained him. He ducked beneath their underbellies, skimming the edge of the formation with a tight circle around the perimeter. The vessel encircled the crew in a flash of light, swooping around them in a dizzying fashion. Luckily for Strive, he didn’t feel any adverse effect from the constant spinning. His delight was more than enough to counter any incoming nausea.

He took the time to skim through the open space, leaning his vessel to the sides in an extravagant fashion. He would test the limits of his speed, hastily moving his arms in order to emulate quick, jerky actions. He’d stop mid-flight, catapult himself backwards, and curl around invisible obstacles. His vessel would rocket itself high above the group, nestling its wings close to its sides as it plunged below their positions, coming back up with an elegant twirl. Strive would look into the viewing windows of his companions, delighted to pick up on their amazed expressions. If he could keep this up, surely they’d realize how capable he’d be when faced with the threat of battle.

Deciding to take a small break, Strive hovered beside the russet ship of his crew mate, initiating a connection with Phobos on the inside. It had taken him a while to figure out how to reach out to his companions, his methods much more different from traditional means. As long as he had a specific contact in mind, his vessel would make the connection. “What’d you think of that, Phobos?”

His companion gave a hearty thumbs up. _“That looked amazing! I knew your ship was fast, but it’s incredible to see it in action on the open road. And your dexterity; it’s unreal! It’s like your ship’s made of silk or something.”_ It was still odd to hear him with a voice, but Strive quickly grew accustomed to the unique combinations of clicks and blips. The language sounded natural—in an unnatural way. 

Strive’s core began to shine a little brighter amidst the praise he was receiving. He swayed his vessel back and forth while he talked with Phobos, an invisible wind curling at the ends of his downy hair. “Glad you think it’s neat. If there were any debris fields around I’d show you all how much better I’ve gotten at avoiding them. Not only that, but I could definitely use that tactic to outsmart some enemies if we ever came across them.”

Phobos gave a silent guffaw, the humoured expression failing to translate over his code. His chuckles came up as meaningless beeps, his software unable to mimic the joy of natural laughter. _“I don’t doubt you for a second. You’ve got speeds that can rival the Void ships. It's unheard of. Others have tried to rival the Void ships, but to no avail. I think you’re an exceptional case.”_ Upon hearing the comparison, Strive gave a strained laugh, hesitant to confirm the rocketeer’s keen observations. _“So, how’re you doing on your first night out?”_

“I seem to be fine. Though if I’m being completely honest, it’s hard to keep still! Stars, I could hardly handle being stuck between all your ships. Staying in one place was maddening!”

 _“Is that so? Do you think it has something to do with the connection you share with your vessel?”_ As he was talking, Phobos began shuffling around his dwelling, walking off screen momentarily before appearing with a notepad in hand. He seemed to be interested in documenting Strive’s progress, wiggling around in his chair until he got into a comfortable position. _“Tell me more.”_

“It’s . . . I don’t know.” Strive waved his arms around, feeling the same actions being mirrored by his vessel. “Staying in one place makes me feel fidgety. Or is it my vessel that feels it? Either way, soaring around the open space seems to calm us down. Now that we’ve had a taste of flight, it feels like a punishment to stay idle.”

Phobos scribbled a few lines down in his notebook. _“I think there’s some truth to our initial hypothesis; your ship appears to hold some kind of organic quality. It may follow the rules of a traditional spacecraft, but that doesn’t mean it functions the same way. This journey will be the perfect time for me to gather more observations.”_ He continued to ask more questions, each one getting more and more specific to certain aspects of the ship.

The biggest difference between artificial ships and Strive’s organic vessel was control; the pilot always had to be at attention to fly the ship. Another interesting observation was that the ship functioned on hybrid commands. That is, it utilized a few buttons for simple controls and relied on the pilot's silent wishes to guide the rest. The pain link was a new phenomenon, but Phobos was satisfied with his temporary fix surrounding the issue—Strive was too. Besides the few observations that had already been discovered, there wasn’t much more they knew about the vessel. The rest was shrouded in mystery.

 _“Have you given a name to your ship yet?”_ mused Phobos, the rocketeer having run out of questions to ask for the time being. After bombarding Strive with his curious inquiries for the past few hours, he was beginning to grasp at thin, redundant straws. 

A name? How strange. “Uhm, no. I hadn’t thought of that. Was I supposed to?”

Phobos beeped, waving his hand across his monitor. _“Nah, it’s not a mandatory thing. I’ve met plenty of pilots who’ve gone without giving their ships a label. Usually a ship will have a name either from the reputation it gained or as a code name for certain situations. Sometimes a pilot will get so attached to their ride that they give it some cutesy name as an expression of their fondness. The amount of times I’ve come across a spacecraft named 'Desire' is still mind boggling to think about.”_

Strive listened to Phobos drone on about the unoriginal, boring, and infuriating ship names he had come across during his time at Headquarters. He assured the boy that he could name his vessel anything he wanted, so long as it wasn’t something ridiculous like the names Destiny, Comet, Fireball, Abysmal Beauty, Peewee Bobcat, Cosmic Destruction, or the gaudy choice of the year: Phantom Racer. So long as he steered away from these overused combinations, the rocketeer was confident that he'd be able to fly through the skies without onlookers snickering behind his back.

It was surprising to hear how petty the inhabitants of the cosmos could be towards someone’s choice of name. Then again, it was equally surprising to hear that the entire galaxy possessed a laughably weak drive for creativity.

“What’s your vessel named?” Judging by how critical Phobos had been of some of the names his listed off, surely he’d have an interesting title attached to his craft.

 _“It’s not something I chose willingly. I told you about how some ships gain a reputation, yeah? Look no further than mine.”_ He made a wide gesture in front of the monitor, encompassing the entire ship with his motions. _“You’re looking at Deimos, the precursor of fear.”_

Strive raised an eyebrow, the ominous name causing him to become skeptical when he beheld its pilot. Somehow the label didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. “Deimos? How did you get that name? And what’s so scary about your ship?”

A long, hollow beep staggered across the intercom, the tone sounding rather grim. _“To catch a glimpse of the rumoured Deimos—it’s usually too late for you to avoid the consequences.”_ Phobos tapped his helmet idly, leaving more questions than answers for Strive to follow. _“The perks of being silent outweigh the gift of speech, my friend.”_

Upon hearing this, Strive gulped nervously. While he’d been assured that Phobos was not a being that enjoyed violence, he supposed that some situations called for it no matter what. With that in mind, he could only hope that these circumstances were never met. He could only pity the ones who were faced with the wrath of his silent companion—deathly quiet was a term that favoured the voiceless rocketeer.

 _“Enough about that. Names are hardly a necessity when you travel through the abyss,”_ piped Phobos, pushing away his odd ominousity. _“Don’t stress about it, okay? Something will come to you, be it by the reputation you gain or whatever nickname Sung comes up with. If he gives you one, it’s best to ignore it; they’re usually unbearably tacky.”_

Strive’s ears perked with interest. “What did he come up with for the crew?”

Phobos rolled invisible eyes. _“Nothing spectacular. Since I already had a title when we first met, I was spared. Well, sort of. He tried to get away with calling my ship 'Gibson', but I quickly vetoed the decision. Anyways, Meouch wasn’t so lucky.”_ The rocketeer reeled back in his chair, beeping happily as he remembered their first encounter with the doctor. _“After Sung threw himself between our fight, that charismatic bastard convinced us to come along on his little quest. The first comment he could muster when he saw Meouch’s ship had to do with the way it creaked when the hatch opened. He said it sounded like a small creature’s cry. Because of that, he referred to his ship as 'Meech'—he still does to this day! Meouch would kill me if he found out that I told you._

_“Then there’s Havve—he doesn’t seem to mind the ship’s name too much. We’ve always known it as “Hogan”. Not sure what it means, but it definitely encapsulates the feel of such a bulky, menacing ship like the one he drives."_

 _Hogan_ , thought Strive. _A literal monster. How fitting._

 _"As for Sung,"_ continued Phobos, _"he likes to refer to his as the 'Guardian'. I can appreciate the simplicity, but I find myself questioning the meaning sometimes. He won’t tell us his reasons for naming it that. I can only assume he’s trying to live up to his current job as the leader of the Brigade.”_

Strive found himself nodded along to his companion’s words, a new world of interesting customs opening up before him. He wondered about the future of his vessel and the name it had yet to claim. Would it come about naturally or would he be subjected to Sung’s nicknaming tendencies? Whatever was destined for him, he secretly hoped it wouldn’t be a name he’d grow to regret.

Motion on the screen captured Strive's attention, bringing him back to Phobos and their pleasant chatter. The figure held a gloved hand in front of his helmet, an incoherent whine sounding in reaction to his gesture; he was yawning. _“Tell me more about your ship. Can you describe what you're feeling right now?”_

For the first time since they began talking, Strive was suddenly aware of his extended visit, their guideless conversations having lasted for many hours. The subtle pull of fatigue was beginning to gnaw at his legs, tempting him towards rest. He tried to shake the feeling from his body, willing himself to stay afloat a little longer.

“Well, I’m not really sure. Being in the air, soaring through the skies—it feels amazing. It’s like I belong here.” Strive’s eyes developed a dewy mist, his mind enveloped in a hazy overlay. “I can’t explain it. It just feels right. Being here, twisting through the cosmos, claiming this vessel as my own . . . I feel like this was meant to be. My ideals, they somehow resonate with my vessel. Perhaps that’s the reason it crashed down on my planet. Maybe it was looking for someone like me to take the leap.”

 _“It’s so strange,"_ hummed Phobos. _"The circumstances you’ve described seem impossible—”_ Strive felt the hot wash of embarrassment rush across his skin, believing that his companion held some skepticism over the whole thing. _“But I don’t think it is. In fact, I think it’s entirely possible, more so leaning towards improbable. But improbable still harbours a plausible chance. Anything has the possibility of happening, it just depends on the situation at hand and the levels at which it’s possible. Do you follow me, Strive?”_

The boy offered a small nod, relieved to hear that his friend wasn’t intending to doubt him anytime soon. Or so he understood; it was kind of hard to follow the confusing words that Phobos was reciting. “Yes, I think so,” he replied.

_“Good. I mean, if you think about it in the long run, our entire situation is improbable to begin with. Have you ever thought of the sheer improbability that you were born? That I exist? That we somehow all crossed paths during specific points in our lives? Thinking of the larger picture, these particular events seem impossible, but in reality it’s all simply improbable. Nothing is truly impossible, just unlikely. That’s what I tell those who doubt us—our mission seems impossible, but it’s really not. This applies to you as well, Strive. Keep that in mind.”_

Strive’s head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the dense philosophical monologue, each mention of “impossible”, “probable”, “possible” and “improbable” blending into one similar term. While he understood what Phobos was trying to get at, it was hard to deny how perplexed his complicated words left the young traveller. Just how long had it been since Phobos was able to talk this freely? Was this the consequence of remaining silent for so long? 

“Tone it down, will ya Socrates?” Meouch’s irritated growl vibrated over the intercom, his peeved muzzle appearing on the screen. “I don’t know how long ya’ve been awake, but I’m tellin’ ya to take a damn nap! Ya always spew the strangest shit when yer’e tired. Do us a favour and sleep off yer philosophies, alright?” 

_“It’s entirely possible that I’m slightly sleep deprived, but then again it’s even more improbable that—”_

“Shit, will ya just shut up and get some rest?! We’re not even one day in and I already want to claw yer insufferable head off!” With a final warning, Meouch’s image blipped off the screen, leaving Strive and Phobos to drowsily talk among themselves.

The rocketeer gave a weary series of beeps, his reclined figure sinking further into his chair. _“That damned cat, always telling me what to do. The worst part is that he’s right! I hadn't even noticed that I was rambling until he called me out on it. Sorry to subject you to my nonsense.”_

“Don’t be sorry," said Strive. "Our conversations were really interesting. I thought your final words were . . . insightful.” He looked towards the monitor, picking up on the exhausted aura that engulfed his companion. “I’ll leave you to rest for a while. From what I understand, we’ve got an impossibly long journey ahead of us.”

Phobos beeped, his form vibrating in a series of silent chuckles. _“Nah, just an improbable one.”_ The rocketeer flicked his wrist, holding his two fingers beside his head as he bid his companion farewell. _"See you later, Strive. Wake me when something impossible happens.”_ He crackled out of existence, leaving Strive alone in his impossibly improbable, but entirely possible, vessel. 

With no one to talk to, Strive swung his arms to the left in a lazy fashion, his growing weariness beginning to take its toll on his flying capabilities. He dove into the centre of the formation, nestling his vessel between his companions. He looked through his viewing window, taking in the slumped forms of both Phobos and Meouch—they appeared to be snoozing, taking the opportunity to sleep while their ships controlled their travel. A pang of envy pinched his core, the need for adequate rest becoming apparent. Due to the amount of involvement he needed to pilot his ship, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to retire for the night. 

Mark that down for another thing he hadn’t thought about in advance. 

Knackered grumpiness began to build up, his temper becoming shorter with each passing second. Strive could feel his eyes develop a sluggish blink, his arms slowly losing their position as he fell into scattered darkness. The sudden jerk of his vessel would wake him, the uneven pull of his ship bringing him back to the present; he hoped nobody had seen his accidental fumble. Lucky for his pride, everyone seemed caught up in their dreams, unable to critique his imperfect from. Even Havve was inactive, his ruby orbs lacking their intense shine from before. 

He was beginning to grow desperate, the need for rest howling throughout his body. There was no way he’d be able to fly much longer. Sooner or later he’d need to stop, effectively bringing the crew’s travel to a halt. Strive was surprised by how weary he had grown in the last few hours, having done nothing to exceed his perceived limits. Now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that the Bridge took up more of his energy than that of the crew’s, his physical strength reacting to the strain much like the artificial engines of his teammates. 

As a last ditch effort, Strive made the decision to call upon his leader for guidance. He paged the ship in front of him, silently hoping that he hadn't disturbed the man within. Thankfully, his call was received in a timely manner. Sung’s peppy persona filled the vessel’s viewing window, his voice sounding alert and void of any sleepiness. “Strive! What can I do for you?”

“Hey, Sung. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Psh, of course not! I wasn’t even sleeping in the first place, just keeping myself entertained with my clutter in the back.” As if to make a point, the doctor presented a strange, arched object in front of the monitor, using his hands as a means of bouncing the slinky article back and forth. “I see you’ve returned back to the centre. All done flying for the night?”

“Yes, about that . . .” Strive quickly explained his situation, a feeble yawn finding its way in between his words. He blinked back the haze of his vision, rubbing his eyes in the crook of his shoulder. “I don’t know what I should do. I’d be pretty annoying of me to halt our progress from something as trivial as sleep.”

The doctor hummed, his fingers poised beneath his chin as he tried to think of a solution. “There aren’t any nearby planets that’ll let us transfer you onto one of our ships safely. Besides, it would be a long time until you’d be able to fly on your own—something tells me you prefer flying as opposed to being a passenger.” Strive nodded, realizing how difficult he had accidentally made the situation. “Let’s see. . . . Oh! What if you hitched a ride on one of our ships? Literally.”

Strive tilted his head, unable to understand what the man was getting at. “You just said that I can’t get into your ships safely. How am I supposed to—”

“Simple! Just land on one of our ships and retire from there. Your vessel is small enough that it won’t throw anyone off balance. You should be able to maintain a stable position while you power down; our course is pretty uneventful at the moment. The chances of you being knocked off are slim to none. Mostly.” 

He was supposed to perch on someone’s ship? Like a winged creature? It sounded absurd, yet he couldn’t care less. Looking ridiculous was the least of his worries; he just wanted to sleep. “Sure, why not?”

“Great! Let me just ring Havve for a second . . .” The doctor fiddled with his harmonious keys off screen, summoning his robotic friend onto the monitor. “Hey, buddy! I’ve got a little job for you. Here’s what’s happening—” Sung explained the plan, bubbling excitedly as he talked the two of them through his ridiculous plan. It sounded mad, but plausible all the same. “Understood?”

Havve bobbed his head, calmly gazing at Strive before he blipped out of existence; the boy took that as an okay sign. With Sung’s instructions as his guiding force, he began his awkward decent onto the moving object behind him.

He cut his engines half way, minimizing his speed and the force of his exhausted ignition. Carefully, Strive folded his wings inwards, catching invisible winds and shaping them for his desired purpose. He began his slow descent onto the exterior of Havve’s ship, his rear fins gently backing into the viewing glass the robot resided behind. Once safely in place, he pulled his hands away from the pillars, causing his wings to hang uselessly at the sides. The vessel remained steady on the moving ship, its small size hardly blocking any portion of Havve’s vision.

Relief washed over Strive, his body beginning to relax once he was no longer obligated to take control. He sat down on the ground, gradually slipping onto his back as he found a comfortable position. With everything going according to plan, Sung’s image materialized onto the screen in order to congratulate the boy’s success, only to pause as he beheld the splayed out form of the unconscious pilot, his tiny snores echoing throughout the interior of his vessel. His chest would rise and fall to a steady tune, his core glowing peacefully through his tranquil dreams. The doctor ended the call, an amused smile plastered to his face. If only he could fall asleep as fast as their young companion. 

Sung made a mental note to give him a blanket the next time they landed. A comfy pillow would be nice too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may or may not have noticed, but I added a cameo character inspired by India Swift (AKA OldSwifty), one of the directors/animators for the Starlight Brigade video! Much appreciation for all the Knights of the Light Table. Without their hard work, we wouldn't have their amazing video to fuel our bright imaginations. Cheers to you!
> 
> Also, it has come to my attention that I've recognized some of you folks in the comments/kudos sections from many of TWRP's collaborative and separate livestreams. In that case: Welcome! Hope to see your lovely chats each stream :^)
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading! We've just hit 600 views! Incredibly insane of you all—you're all too kind!


	15. Beyond the Hollows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks of flying through the Wastelands, the crew finally manages to find a suitable place to rest and recharge. The new terrain lights Strive's core with the flames of curiosity, pushing him to learn more about this foreign land. A voice of adventure calls him forward, perhaps more urgently than the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/12/03) Image by the multi-talented [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/68213337#workskin) **
> 
> **Includes an illustration in-between and a funny little comic at the end! It feels like Christmas came early this month—such a delight, Nexeliam! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

“Hey, kid. Wake up! S’about time for us to land.”

Strive’s eyes shot open. He quickly raised himself from the ground, blinking sluggishly as he tried to gain a hold of his reality. A lengthy yawn escaped him, followed by a symphony of cracks as he came to life with a much needed stretch. He slowly rose to his feet, swiping his hands across his teary gaze. He approached the pillars of his ship, hovering his palms over the controls in anticipation for their eventual use.

Still burdened by a sheet of grogginess, Strive let out another yawn, focusing his vision on the navy feline that was projected on his viewing window. “Meouch? What time is it?”

“Time? Bah, no clue. Ya gotta remember that time is practically useless out in the Wastelands,” huffed Meouch, his figure leaning to the side as he pushed a few buttons off screen. “What I can tell ya is that we’re finally takin’ a break from the road. Sung figured it was about time we took a breather—literally. I’m gettin’ all stuffed up in my ship! Fur ain’t great when ya got allergies, kid.”

Strive’s ears perked at the mention of landing. He figured it was bound to happen eventually, he just didn’t know when. It would seem that two weeks was the limit to their marathon travel, any longer proving difficult for the crew's well-being. The rest of the crew had begun to go stir crazy, their tempers noticeably thinner whenever they talked amongst each other over the projection. They seemed fidgety, fitful, and incredibly fed up with being cooped inside for such a long time. Lucky for Strive, he felt positively fine, the novelty of flight holding steady in his core. Havve seemed alright as well, not a single complaint coming from the metallic creature.

The robot made no fuss the entire trip, staying in position as the faithful guard from behind. He was always alert, his circuits focused and tasked with scanning each new area they encountered. While he didn’t speak with any of the other crew members, he would still participate in their group calls, silently debriefing the doctor on any recent findings or events. Unfortunately for him, his reports often came up short due to their trip’s current stability. 

In addition to being the ultimate defense, he also served the comical purpose of keeping Strive afloat while he slept. Since his ship was larger than the rest, he was nominated as the makeshift resting point for their companion. When the remaining crew members awoke from their slumber, they couldn’t believe what they saw. They had expected to see the boy gliding beside them. Instead, they found him nestling into the nooks of Havve’s ship, his exhausted snores resonating over the intercom.

Now that he was fully awake, it was time to fly the nest. 

Strive placed his palms over the pillars, an electric buzz coursing through his arms as his dormant wings twitched to life. The ignition began to hum, a steady heat rising from the engine. Once powered up, he willed his vessel forwards with a strong curve in his arms, propelling himself off the ledge his ship was roosting on. The white beast hopped into the centre of the formation, stabilizing itself with an expert tilt from its pilot. With one final flap, the vessel claimed its position, soaring comfortably between the surrounding ships.

The viewing window was suddenly crowded with familiar faces, the three newcomers pushing Meouch’s image to the side as they made way for an even fit. Strive could feel his core squeeze with excitement, a noticeable shine flooding his ship in anticipation for their next set of instructions. He had never gone to another planet before, save for the accidental landing he experienced on his first day out. Now that they were purposely seeking out their next destination, he couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead.

Sung cleared his throat on the screen. “Here’s the deal—we’ll be taking a short break on a nearby planet. The map says it’s a stable environment for all of us and appears harmless enough. With that said, we’ll still have to keep our guards up no matter how peaceful it looks. Got it?”

The crew members nodded on screen, seeming pleased with a mostly positive verdict. So long as they stayed together, it was unlikely that any harm would come their way. Besides, the doctor seemed confident that the planet housed very little threats. He wouldn’t send his crew anywhere that he felt was unsafe.

Meouch’s gravely voice sounded over the intercom, seeming nonchalant as he prepared his ship for their descent off screen. “Documented or undocumented?”

“Documented," replied Sung. "I managed to find a little bit of information about it in the soligram’s database.” He checked his device once more, reading off a few key points about the planet. “It’s small in size, but beautiful nonetheless. Traversable forests, rocky bluffs, crystal lakes, crescent mountains . . . sounds perfect for the chance to recharge and relax! You could bask in the sun to your heart’s content.”

“Hmm, ya don’t say? Lemme get a look at this.” Meouch pulled out his own soligram, humming and hawing while he read the description. “That does sound pretty good. Better than some of the other dumps we’ve been forced to rest on. I’m still pissed about the tides, Sung. Ya better not be wrong about this planet too.”

Sung cackled loudly, leaning back in his chair as he thought back to the vaguely described event. “Have faith, Meouch! That was one time! Besides, I was extra careful in my picking process, specifically with you in mind. Don’t get your fur in a knot, okay?”

“I had water in my ears for weeks, Sung.”

“Nothing wrong with having a portable ocean attached to your hearing.”

“I had pneumonia for a month!”

“That was just an unfortunate coincidence!” 

“My only pair of clothin’ was drenched for days! I had to live in a towel for the rest of the trip!”

Phobos interjected with his own experience of the event. _“Hopefully we can avoid another travesty such as that. Meouch’s ship smelt like wet dog for weeks. Still does, in my opinion.”_

“Well nobody was askin’ for yer insight, Phobos!" Meouch yelled. "Mind yer business, ya russet jackass!”

“Okay, okay! Stars alive, listen,” groaned Sung. “You won’t have to worry about any more tides, alright? The worst thing you’ll have to worry about is putting your paw in a shallow pond. Think you can handle that at least?”

Meouch crossed his arms, mumbling something sassy under his breath. “I guess.”

Sung nodded approvingly. “Good. Now then, if we could please get back on track,” he said, resuming his instructions before anyone had a chance to interrupt him. “The plan is to stay in a suitable area and rest for three days. That’ll give everyone a chance to stretch their legs and take back anything you may want for the road. Remember, it’ll be awhile before we land again, so make the most of your time on land—but just don't get into trouble. Got it?”

The crew nodded, eager to see the spot that had been chosen for their descent. Although the planet was nowhere in sight, Sung assured Strive that it was just a quick skip into the Bridge. One quarter of a lightyear to be precise. With such a short distance, Strive hardly had any time to appreciate the wonderful colours of the Bridge before he was catapulted into a brand new area, his white vessel perfectly blending in with the surrounding cotton clouds.

Unable to see the new environment, Strive took the time to look at his soligram and track his crew members’ progress from the Bridge. It would appear that everyone had made it through, save for Phobos and his laggy ship. The issue was quickly resolved when his ship blipped into existence on the screen, signalling their successful travel as a group. Now all that was left was to land beneath the dense stratosphere.

With Sung’s instruction, the group made their slow descent into the unknown land. Strive watched from his viewing window as the fog gradually dispersed, revealing the picturesque lands that Sung has promised. A small gasp escaped him once he beheld the terrain, his core shimmering with delight.

Their ships grazed the rocky cliffs with their overhead shadows, cutting across the undisturbed land with ease. The powerful winds from their engines sent nearby trees into a frenzy, plucking a few leaves from their emerald beds—they curled around the ships, dancing in response to their blustering flight current. Feeling giddy, Strive rocked his vessel back and forth through the air, sensing the crisp winds that flowed across his vessel’s exterior. 

Upon finding an empty clearing, the order was made to end their flight. Strive maneuvered between his companions, carefully edging his ship closer to the ground. He kept a steady stream of ignition underneath himself, the white hot flare sending particles of auburn dust into the air. While his teammates landed with an audible impact, Strive's vessel gracefully teetered above the ground. Unable to contain himself, he cut the controls. He pushed himself through the white blossoms, quickly sliding down the sloped incline of his wings. 

The first thing he noticed was the satisfying crunch of dirt beneath his boots, the grainy substance working its way into the grooves of his sole. He smiled happily, twisting his foot so he could hear the sound even more. Then, he dragged his boot across the ground, kicking up a russet sandstorm. He could no longer restrain his feverish delight—he broke out into a run. 

He outstretched his arms, swaying his body back and forth as he ran circles around the perimeter of the shipyard. He would plunge his arms to the side whenever he made a sharp turn, giggling brightly as he took in the entire area. Oblivious to his crew members, he would dart around their ships, kicking up an earthy fog in his childish romp. Overcome with joy, he miscalculated one of his steps, sending his charging form into a dusty tumble. He was left splayed on his back, letting out another series of boisterous giggles as he filtered his hands through the saturated dirt. He held the grains in his palm, slowly releasing their contests into a raised hill. The sound of the sifting sands was music to his ears, an enjoyable chill finding its way down his spine.

The crew watched him roll around in the dirt, a collective grin finding its way to each of the pilots. Their eyes followed their young companion when he pushed himself off the ground, finding yet another fascinating element to this planet—flowers. He charged for the plants, crouching in front of their delicate forms and gently grazing his fingers over their petals. 

Strive’s eyes were wide with admiration as he observed the foreign plants, his fingertips brushing against their curiously coiled filaments, the curly yellow stalks leaning over the edges of the open blossom. The flower burned a vibrant scarlet, speckles of maroon splattered across the surface as their jagged petals swayed into a natural shrug. He could see a faint trail of pollen accumulating on the ends of the filaments, a simple gust of wind most certainly capable of disturbing their resting place.

He leaned in closer, catching the crisp, zesty fragrance that wafted through the air. The strange scent rocked him into a lulled state, offering a moment of complete calm. Taken by its visual and aromatic beauty, he couldn’t help but tenderly grasp a petal between his thumb and index finger, squeezing ever so gently. The flower reacted adversely, quickly folding in on itself and pulling its form into a tight bulb, a cloud of golden pollen spewing from the top. Strive jumped back in surprise, his nose beginning to twitch. He wheezed once, squinting his eyes as a high pitched sneeze followed in response. 

He sniffed loudly, another tickle beginning to develop. He rubbed his nose frantically, trying to stop himself from entering a sneezing fit. Two distinct chuckles hollered from behind, gaining joy from the boy’s momentary misfortune. Strive huffed, turning away from the flowers in an attempt to block out any more irritants. He walked back to his cackling crew members, failing to suppress the powerful sneeze that tore through his chest.

Strive wasn’t the only one plagued with the sniffles. Meouch had started out as one of his hecklers, only to succumb to a coughing fit of his own. The blue feline covered his snivelling nose, biting back the onslaught of ferocious sneezes. Muttering some choice words, Meouch quickly left Sung’s side in order to recover, desperately seeking out a pollen-free zone. Strive could just barely make out what he was saying, the disgruntled feline having let loose a series of furious hisses regarding pollen, allergies, and that ‘bastard’ Sung; it was unknown whether or not the doctor had even heard him.

Sung held his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide his goofy grin and accompanying laughter. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you about those before we landed. A lot of planets are currently in their pollen season. This one included.” He gestured towards the flower that Strive had unintentionally disturbed, the three-sided bloom beginning to open up once again. “Sniffletrins are everywhere in this part of the cosmos. They’re incredibly beautiful when in full bloom, but a bit of a nuisance when it comes to pollen.” Strive sneezed once again, managing to confirm the doctor’s words.

“Do they always,” Strive waved his arms through the air, “poof like that?”

“Only when they feel threatened. They have a neat little mechanic that keeps them from being plucked by any wandering creatures. As you discovered earlier, sniffletrins coil themselves into a closed bloom, shooting up a cloud of pollen as a way of deterring predators. By the way you were pinching it, it must’ve thought you were going to pull it from the ground.” 

“Oh, no! I would never do that.” He sniffed one final time, ridding himself of the irritating particles. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen genuine flowers; live ones too! I would never uproot them without a cause. That would be so cruel!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we chose an empty clearing to land on. Otherwise we’d be faced with crushed flowers and week long sniffles!” Sung nodded his head towards the fields. “Now that you know about that little trick of theirs, feel free to take another look—close by, of course. We’ve got a few days before we have to leave, so take it in while you can.”

Strive nodded, turning back to the field of dusty flowers. Now that he knew what to expect, he made sure not to repeat his actions a second time. So long as he was careful, he shouldn’t be subjected to their deterrents again.

He cautiously crouched beside the expansive field of flowers, the cloud of golden pollen having long disappeared in the wind. Once again, he reached out for the flowers, remaining mindful of how much pressure he was applying to the petals. His fingertips grazed the soft surface, taking a moment to appreciate their delicate forms. Strive smiled, remembering the simpler times of his childhood.

He could still see them; the luminescent pentawrens of his home planet. The way they used to shimmer beneath celestial skies, the iridescent droplets that fell from their turquoise petals, the specks of moondew that used to cling to his skin—he could feel their ghostly sensation wrap around his hand, their persistent glow remaining in his present thoughts. Strive looked down at his palms, the memories of his past replaced by the golden shimmer of sniffletrin pollen. Although he missed his pentawrens dearly, these new plants were a joyous discovery in themselves. 

Strive’s ears twitched when he heard the distinct crunch of dirt beneath his companion’s feet. He turned his head, offering a smile to the familiar being. “Hey, Phobos. Glad to be back on solid ground?” The rocketeer made a quick series of motions, positioning himself into a humorous posture. “Yeah, I could tell you were getting impatient during our talks. You seemed so tense those last few days, the others as well!”

Phobos nodded, crossing his arms in a way that portrayed a sense of claustrophobia. He produced artificial shivers, swiftly bringing an upturned palm to his forehead. He leaned precariously as if on the verge of a fainting spell. 

“I believe it. Having a chance to relax was a good choice after all.” Strive swept his attention back to the blooms in front of him, keeping his grasp light and non threatening. The last thing he wanted was another nose full of irritating particles. He observed the striking red of the sniffletrins’ petals, then the golden filaments that rolled off the sides; he did a double take between the flowers and his companion. “Say, these flowers look a lot like you!”

Phobos tilted his head to the side, placing his gloved hands on his waist as if to question the resemblance. He kneeled to Strive’s level, peering at the blooms with great interest. He pointed at the flowers, waiting for Strive to clarify his reasoning for comparing him to a three leafed, asthmatic species. 

“The colour; it almost matches your suit. The red is a little off, but the gold is spot on! Don’t you think so?”

After a small pause, the rocketeer nodded his head in agreement, his fingers resting beneath his helmet in a thoughtful gesture. He went to reach for a flower, only to stop at the sudden gasp Strive produced. He tapped his head in embarrassment, remembering how foolish it would be to disturb a slumbering sniffletrin. Unlike the others, the rocketeer wasn’t affected by the harsh pollen these flowers produced. If given the chance, he’d probably set off an entire field of sniffletrins before the urge to sneeze ever occurred; the perks of keeping a helmet on at all times were often overlooked. 

The two companions chatted idly beside the vermilion meadow, catching up on the time that had missed while encased in their ships. It was nice to be in each other's company. Talking over holograms was doable, but it lost any sort of connection that physical interaction offered. Having the chance to be near a living presence was something Strive had missed while flying through the Wastelands. He could hardly imagine how awful it must be for lonely travellers. 

Ridding himself of these thoughts, he set his sights beyond the sniffletrin field. His eyes trailed across the foliage, his curiosity sparking to life as he beheld the mysterious forest in the distance. He narrowed his gaze, tracing a path towards the leafy grotto. It was possible to avoid disturbing the flowers if they took that specific route, choosing flattened earth and pebbled walkways over the unappealing pollen clouds. If he concentrated with all his might, he could pick up the faint rush of water, a hidden stream most likely residing beyond the dense trees.

These concealed elements targeted his endless curiosity, practically begging for him to seek them out. Strive let his gaze linger beyond the field, his core beginning to ache from his rising excitement. “Phobos,” he began, nudging his companion with his elbow. “What do you think about taking a little walk over there?”

The rocketeer tilted his head, following the boy’s gaze as he looked into the mysterious distance. He seemed hesitant, portraying much less interest in going beyond their current position. Phobos looked to the side as he observed the empty clearing their ships resided in. Then, he shook his head, shooting down Strive’s proposition. 

“Why not? Surely we’d be fine if it was just the two of us. I wouldn’t be wandering around on my own. I’d have you as backup!” Strive tried to sweeten the deal, thinking up devious ways to make the trip more enticing. “It’d be a great chance for you to stretch your legs. Plus, the area is really quiet. You could probably find a nice place to relax; I can even hear some running water in the distance. Sounds really peaceful, doesn’t it?”

At the mention of peace and quiet, the rocketeer’s resistance seemed to weaken. He placed his hand below his helmet, a visual hum of thoughtfulness wrapping around him. He would look to the field, then back at the clearing. The constant sounds of his crew members shuffling, chattering, and Meouch’s persistent sneezes were unappealing compared to the tranquil isolation he’d experience in the woods. Surely the crew wouldn’t miss them if they snuck away for a few moments. . . .

After an extended period of pondering, Phobos agreed. Strive gave an exclamation of joy, clasping his hands together when his wish to advance was granted. “Great! I’ve already located a path for us. This way, we won’t set off any of the sniffletrins. I know you’d be fine, but for my sake we’ll be sticking to the route.” 

Phobos didn’t seem to have a problem with this, offering a quick thumbs up in return. With that, Strive took the lead, carefully traversing the auburn trail and avoiding the blooms by his sides. He and Phobos weaved through the plants, holding their breaths—well, Strive did—in the event that they accidentally set off one of the tricky flowers. Lucky for them, their travels went smoothly as they climbed the uneven pathway, walking in time with the sharp turns and gradual inclines. 

Within a few moments, the two of them stood before the maw of the viridian forest, its immense greenery casting a cool shadow above the travellers. Strive inhaled deeply and allowed himself to enjoy the dewy scent of the woodlands, its refreshing dampness colliding with his skin. True to his previous impression, an audible rush of water echoed throughout the environment. The hidden river babbled gently as the stream lapped against the sandy brooks, sloshing between the tickering stones of the land.

Strive’s core gave a steady glow as he tried to balance his excitement and the gradual peace of tranquility. Not even one foot in the forest and he was already left breathless by the enchanted realm. It seemed to call him forwards, an airy voice that swept through his mind without an actual sound. Something about the need to advance felt familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. What could be calling him from beyond the clearing?

Perhaps it wasn’t the need to advance, but the need to come back. No, the order to come back.

Both Strive and Phobos looked over their shoulders when a gruff voice hollered over the field. Meouch’s growl raised to a booming level as he called his companions back, an irritated lick evident in his voice. “Get yer asses over here! Ya nearly gave us a heart attack when ya wandered off like that!” He crossed his arms in annoyance, a distinct huff reaching over the sniffletrins. “If ya think I’m just gonna let ya skip out on setup duties, then ya both must be incredibly dense. Get back here and help!”

Strive’s ears lowered in shame, a wash of guilt causing the ends to turn a dusty pink. Even Phobos seemed embarrassed, scratching the back of his head with a vibrating chuckle. He looked towards his young companion with a shrug of his shoulders; some other time, he seemed to say. Begrudgingly, Strive took the lead and followed the trail back to the clearing. More than once, he found himself looking over his shoulder towards the dark forest, the invisible pull calling him back. He wasn’t really worried about this sensation. He was intrigued by it.

The crunch of dirt beneath his boots taunted him as he walked farther away from the mysterious woodlands. The heat of the open skies rapidly stole the cooling calm of the shady domain—the clearing was suddenly less desirable. 

While the busy atmosphere of the crew’s resting point was enough to keep him occupied, he was unable to shake the voiceless force that begged for his presence. He could be distracted with a number of things—ranging for small talk, cleanup, setup, and endless chores—yet the unknown still called for him. Strive hoped this feeling would pass soon; containing his curiosity was a feat in itself.

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


The brilliant skies made way for the comfort of nightfall, surrendering their presence to the blank skies above. The land was submerged in an overwhelming darkness, a lone source of light coming from the hissing bonfire that the crew had built. The Brigade huddled around the flames while they finished their meals, the sharp click of utensils and the clang of emptied plates clattering through the clearing. Even Havve was there, his eyes dulled beneath a peaceful glow—he seemed to be enjoying the company. As their dining hour came to a close, Strive’s teammates heaved a collective sigh as they basked in the comfort of full bellies and the warmth of the fire. Within their relaxed state, the crew began to unwind with a few stories, cracking quick jokes in order to get a reaction from the rest.

Strive sat by the fire and listened to one of Sung’s extravagant stories, nestling himself into the comfy blanket around his shoulders. Like most of the doctor’s tales, this one involved an embarrassing story about Meouch and his numerous misfortunes. The two of them would banter about the specifics, going back and forth about how something happened and how it definitely _didn’t_ happen. Whenever Meouch denied something, Sung was quick to find another moment to counter with, usually something much more embarrassing than the latter. After a while, the beastie gave up on correcting the doctor, his muzzle a furious shade of mortified red. 

While the doctor carried on with his story, Strive scooched himself to the side to make room for Phobos, the rocketeer joining the party once he finished his meal in the shadows of his ship. The man sat himself beside Strive, crossing his legs in a tight formation as he enjoyed the lively atmosphere. Once settled, he gently nudged the boy with his elbow, dipping his head to the side when he noticed the blanket slung around his form. He took a piece of the fabric in his fingertips, observing the downy material. 

“Sung gave it to me,” whispered Strive, not wanting to disrupt their leader’s animated story. “He wants me to keep it for the road. I even got this pillow too.” He revealed the pillow he was coddling close to his chest, using the cushion as a comfortable support beneath his chin. The combined heat of the fire and the extremely soft blanket around his shoulders was incredibly pleasant. In addition to these cozy elements, he felt a great sense of security while in the company of his teammates. It had been a long time since he had experienced an atmosphere such as this. It was nice to acknowledge how safe he felt—when was the last time he truly felt this way?

Strive closed his eyes, breathing in the smoky fragrance that clung to his clothes. He listened to the crackles of the firepit, prickles of satisfaction rolling across his skin whenever the wood snapped beneath the heat. Sap bubbled and hissed once it escaped their log prisons, adding more notes to the fire’s symphony. He could hear Sung continue on with his story, offering a few head bobs and snickers during the rest of the tale. Even with his eyes closed, Strive could imagine the horrified grimace on the feline’s muzzle. He could practically feel the heat of embarrassment light up his navy fur.

Perhaps Strive wasn’t supposed to know this story. Then again, it was nice to know why Powers had that sign up in the first place. 

“—and that’s how Meouch got quarantined in his room for three days. We had to slide his food underneath the door. It felt like I was taking care of an animal!” Sung had a ridiculous smile plastered to his face once he finished the story, turning towards Meouch so he could pester him one final time. “Honestly, I’m still amazed that you managed something so idiotic. I’ll never let you live that down, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I’ve been told,” mumbled the feline, his arms crossed tightly as he lashed his tail through the auburn dirt. “It was funny the first four times ya told it.”

“You didn’t even let me get to the best part!” Sung cackled, swiftly pulling Strive into the conversation. “We called him Ouchy Meouchy for weeks. His whiskers still curl whenever we mention it.” 

“Don’t be tellin’ the kid that!" Meouch protested. "He wasn’t even there!” 

“Ah, Ah! Perks of becoming a crew member: the kid gets to learn all about the dumb stunts you’ve pulled. I can tell another one if you’d like—”

“Bah, don’t even think about it, jackass! Ya’ve used up yer story privileges for the night!” Meouch looked ready to burst. “If I hear one more goddamn story come from that insufferable trap of yers, I’m gonna come over there and claw yer tongue out!”

Sung looked towards his robotic companion, watching his eyes narrow in contempt. A joke had come to his artificial mind, forcing him to relay the message to his living translator. Sung guffawed loudly, patting his companion on his sturdy, metal shoulders. The impact sent a shimmering clang through the area, much like a drumstick to a cymbal. Cackling madly, the doctor managed to sputter out the quip.

Oddly enough, Strive found himself mouthing the exact same words under his breath despite never learning the joke.

“That’s taking ‘cat got your tongue’ to a whole new extreme!”

_That’s taking ‘cat got your tongue’ to a whole new extreme!_

The circle erupted into laughter, both audible and silent. Sung was on his back, overcome by Havve’s cheesy joke and his lousy dedication to a themed pun. Phobos’ shoulders shook as he quietly snickered from within his helmet. Even Meouch managed a few strained laughs, the burly feline unable to remain angry for an extended period of time. Since everyone was occupied by their own giggles, none of them noticed the way Havve was eyeing their young companion, his gaze sharp and unblinking; his internal drumming became louder.

Strive stared back, feeling his chest squeeze tightly underneath the robot’s menacing glare. He wasn’t sure why he was looking at him. Was he angry at him for mouthing the joke? Did he think that he was going to steal his pun? Why did he know the joke in the first place? No sooner had the robot looked over did he turn away, acting as if their exchange had never happened. Strive blinked in confusion, wondering if his mechanical companion was having some sort of malfunction. 

Were they even malfunctions by this point? 

The crew gradually calmed themselves down, getting the last of their giggles out as they winked away dewy tears of delight. Sung let his chuckles fade out with a few huffs, clearing his throat once he could confidently hold a steady tone. He looked towards Strive, curious as to why he wasn’t laughing. “Not a fan of that one, huh? Too lame?”

“What? Oh! No, it was fine.” Strive was reluctant to bring up Havve’s odd behavior in front of the group. Instead, he deflected with a half-truth. “I didn’t quite understand it. I’ve never heard that expression before.” He wasn’t lying; he had never come across the phrase until that night. Regardless, it was strange that he knew it, the words somehow popping into his head without any prompt. 

“Oh, well I can explain it to you if you’d like?”

Strive shook his head, politely declining the doctor’s offer. He had a pretty good guess as to what it meant. For now, however, he’d like to forget that he ever uttered the phrase. The way Havve glared at him sent shivers of unease down his spine—it was like he was shocked, his stoic visage managing to conceal any indication of his exterior emotions. After spending so much time around the robot, Strive was able to pick up on some unseen queues.

The was no mistaking the increased drumming from within, his artificial vitals coming to life as his mind whirred in response. The best way Strive could describe it was a manufactured mix of anxiety and turmoil. Neither sounded good on their own, much less combined. Whatever he had done to stimulate such a response, he hoped he never did it again. 

Pushing these thoughts aside, Strive allowed himself to enjoy the rest of the night beside the fire. While there were no more embarrassing tales to be told, Sung was happy to improvise with some neutral stories that everyone could enjoy.

At first, their leader was the primary storyteller, vocalizing the many adventures he and the crew had gone on in the past. For added emphasis, he would drag his fingers through the dirt in an attempt to illustrate the strange and wonderful scenarios he described. Strive wandered closer to the doctor in his bundle of blankets, following his voice and the complex story drawn in the soil. The doctor raised his words to different octaves and tones in order to emphasize the crucial moments of their tale, similar to some sort of singing method.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the crew joined in, drawing their own depictions of each impressive event. Meouch would dig his claws into the dirt to produce deep, twangy lines, purring with pride as he retold the story in his low tone. His bassy growl would narrate each of the lines he carved into the ground, playing up their importance so he wouldn’t be left in the background. 

Phobos strummed the earth rapidly, his messy sketch hardly keeping up with his excitement. Since he lacked a voice, he was forced to draw much quicker than the rest, relying on a mix of hasty movements and Sung’s memories to fill in the blanks. The rocketeer dragged his fingers swiftly through the land, jumping between lines in order to hit a certain note in the story.

Keeping the rhythm was Havve’s expertly times scratches, his graspers working to sharpen any of the sloppy lines his companions left behind. He would look over the chaotic drawing, somehow managing to bring back a sense of order through his perfect tempo. Strive watched in awe as the image came together as one cohesive work, following the swing and cadence in Sung’s words.

The band of travellers stepped back from their canvas, seeming pleased with the masterpiece they left by the smouldering fire. It was a lot to take in at once, but Strive was more than willing to hear the story again.

They had chosen to describe their first mission as a proper crew. The boy trailed his eyes over the five ships that were drawn across the ground, each one vastly different from the others. They soared through the dusty skies with a trail of rocky ignition, seeming united in terms of speed and the overall goal. The ships were positioned towards a menacingly sharp object—no doubt a lone Void ship. He could see rapid indents clawed into the ground, each ship aiming their sandy weapons towards the prickly vessel. The leading ship managed a clean hit. An explosive effect was scattered around the Void ship, signalling a successful impact.

The ships were drawn again near the top, swooping their simplistic wings around the perimeter of a large object—this was most likely Headquarters. Lines of speed were drawn behind them, some extra effects thrown into the mix as if to express bouts of exhilaration and pride. Strive could see what looked like labels on the drawings, each one different depending on who wrote what. Of course, he couldn’t possibly read any of them. The crew had been so overwhelmed by the joyful drawing that they had forgotten about the written language barrier. 

While some of the forms appeared quite juvenile in appearance—Havve could only do so much when refining their drawings—Strive could still sense the passion that went into the illustration. This must have been a significant event for the entire crew if they were willing to pour their hearts into a collaborative drawing. It was incredibly sweet, perhaps teetering on the sappy side as well.

Sweeping his gaze around the surrounding fodder, Strive narrowed his eyes as he tried to distinguish the shapes that muddled near the bottom. “What are those?”

“That’s us!” piped Meouch, crouching close to the ground so he could point out every small detail that filled the drawing. “I’ve got the sexy mane, see? Then there’s Havve’s jagged jaw, Sung’s doofy cone—”

“It’s not doofy! It fits my attire well!” Sung huffed, rearranging his cone in a self-conscious manner. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever ya say, pilon brains. Anyways, Phobos is off to the side lookin’ like a rejected squid monster—” The rocketeer stomped at the comparison, biting back a silent retort. Meouch ignored his companion. “Then there’s Brian; ya can tell by the unblinkin’ eyes. They follow ya no matter where ya go.” 

True to his words, Strive was both amazing and slightly unnerved by the drawing’s ability to follow him at all angles, their beady particles staring straight into his core. If an illustration of the illusive Brian was this terrifying, he could only imagine the real deal. Scratch that; perhaps he didn’t want to. 

He looked at the five messy faces on the ground, a small chuckle escaping him when he compared them to their proper owners. By no means was anyone an artist, but they had perfected the craft of visual storytelling nonetheless. The ground was alive with their personal tale. The dramatics, the adrenaline, the feelings of immense esteem—it was all there, carefully brought out by a few scratches in the soil. Strive could sense the strength of their friendship, a powerful bond that went beyond simple words and pictures. 

When the image began to fade into the shadows, Strive felt a small yawn creep into his chest, the day’s fatigue finally managing to catch up to him. He rubbed his eyes, shivering slightly as the frigid night nipped at his skin. He huddled into his blanket, gripping the cushion close to his core in an effort to preserve heat. 

The rest of the crew seemed to have the same idea, a series of unique yawns escaping them. Sung was the first to speak through the drowse. “I’d say it’s about time to wrap up for the night. I’ll catch you guys in the morning.”

Strive could hear the doctor’s light footsteps as he wandered back to his ship, basking in the golden light his vessel produced upon opening. Havve followed his companion, his ruby orbs a terrifying sight in minimal lighting. Much like his teammate, Havve decided to power down in his ship, seeming reluctant to stay in the cold any longer than he had to.

After bidding farewell to his companions, Strive made his way back to his own vessel, his eyelids beginning to feel exceptionally heavy. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, his vessel seemed to hold onto a persistent glow. Compared to the other ships, his vessel was easy to spot among the shadows, floating above the ground like a ghostly visitor. He yawned once again, sluggishly placing his hand on the exterior of his vessel while he held his blanket and pillow beneath his other arm. Like always, the white blossoms carried him into the carrier, perhaps a little more gently than usual.

He stumbled to his resting place beside the pillars, the sturdy ground having become his regular sleeping area during their lengthy travels. While it wasn’t really a terrible arrangement, it was hard to deny the aches that plagued his body upon waking. All that was about to change; he finally had the basic sleeping necessities. 

He tossed the cushion onto the ground, practically throwing himself into the comfortable headrest. He wrapped himself in the warmth of his blanket, using the excess length to create a wonderful mattress for him to sleep on. The downy fabric was soft to the touch, their fluffy fibers tickling his skin whenever he shifted in place. Relief was instantaneous, a pleased sigh escaping the exhausted boy. 

He was good at falling asleep quickly. The effects of the blanket and pillow had doubled his response time—all it took was a few seconds before he gave way to the pleasant dreams of the night.

  
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.  
  
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Strive awoke to a light tickering on the side of his vessel. He inhaled deeply, stretching his body across the floor in order to rid himself of the night’s stiffness. He gave a loud yawn, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision. Outside, the tapping continued, calling for the attention of the pilot. Confused, Strive rose to his feet and looked out his viewing window. 

He could see the red and gold edges of Phobos’ helmet as he tucked himself beneath the vessel’s wings, the rocketeer appearing lost as to where he was supposed to knock. Strive gave a small chuckle, finding his teammate’s hesitance quite humorous. Not wanting to keep his friend waiting any longer, he gave the command, phasing through his vessel in a burst of white blossoms.

He slid down the wing of his ship, surprising the rocketeer by his side. Phobos jumped back with a start, placing his hand over his chest to emphasize his shock. Strive quickly apologized, looking around the clearing as he spoke. 

“It’s early?” he questioned, taking in the rosy blush that gripped the drowsy skies. The mist of the night was still clinging to the environment, a crack of crisp morning air filling his lungs. Judging by how quiet the shipyard was, he assumed that the other members we’re still sleeping in their carriers. 

Phobos made a few gestures here and there about the benefits of waking up early. One of the advantages, he noted, was the ability to wander on your own time. Strive watched carefully, a sly grin breaking to the surface once he realized where the conversation was going. The rocketeer pointed beyond the flower fields, his feet entwined with a sudden giddy dance.

“Won’t the others get worried when they see that we’ve left?” Strive whispered, imaging Sung’s distress when he found out that their youngest companion had been misplaced during the wee hours of dawn. If he noticed that Phobos was gone, maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous. Regardless of an extra presence, he had a feeling the doctor wouldn’t be calm unless he knew his exact location. He seemed rather protective of him, more so than he was with the other crew members. Perhaps it was due to his inexperience as a traveller—surely that’s what fueled his reasoning. 

Phobos listened to Strive’s concerns, shaking his head quickly and making a few hasty gestures. He seemed convinced that they’d only be out for a little while, allowing them plenty of time to get back before the crew woke up. Besides, the rocketeer was confident in his abilities to serve as a guard in case things went awry. Due to the planet’s harmless description, he was pretty sure nothing bad would happen anyways. 

A quick sightseeing trip; completely harmless. Strive looked around the damp clearing, feeling a small prickle of guilt crawl through his core at the thought of sneaking away. Then again, it wasn’t like he was wandering alone. He had Phobos by his side. If they got in trouble, they’d gladly share the blame together. “Alright, let’s make it quick!”

Phobos stepped to the side and awaited Strive’s lead. The boy ran to the front, only to pause when he looked back at his dormant ship. As much as he wanted to bring his vessel along for the trip, he knew he couldn’t in fear of alerting the crew of his absence. They’d surely kick up a panic once they realized he wasn't there. For now, it was best to leave his vessel in hopes of fooling his companions a little while longer.

The two of them carefully maneuvered through the sniffletrin fields, following the dainty path they had used the day before. Now that they knew how to traverse it, it didn’t take long for them to reach the mossy maw of the forest. The area was darker at dawn, a cool mist clinging to Strive’s attire much more heavily than it did during the afternoon. The haze was richer than yesterday, an eerie fog coiling around the base of the shrubbery and dampening the air they breathed. The rush of water was still audible in the distance, the pleasant stream cradled within the sleepy hollow’s embrace. A sense of calm washed over him, mimicking the feeling he had briefly experienced before.

Another sense made a curious return; the silent pull that called him forwards. It wasn’t just the inviting atmosphere that interested him, it was the indescribable need to advance. Something was lurking in the woods, whispering, murmuring, purring, begging—it wanted to be discovered. It wanted to be acknowledged. It wanted Strive.

He took the first step into the earthy forest, the snap of a twig sending a shiver of fright up his spine. He quickly exhaled, trying to calm his sudden bout of jitters. He pushed his fears to the side, his curiosity managing to overshadow his hidden unease. _It’s just my imagination,_ he thought to himself. _There’s no need to be scared._

With time ticking away in the background, Strive willed himself forwards. He kept reminding himself that there was nothing to fear, especially since he had his companion by his side. The two of them would follow the path, explore the dense woodlands, and retrace their steps before the morning glimmered through the canopy. Their plan was full proof.

Strive kept this in mind while he and Phobos traversed deeper into the woods, the suffocating foliage quickly swallowing the rosy blush of the dawn behind them. All that was left was the gentle shine of his core, the azure light serving as a guide through the shadowy underbrush. That, and the silent voice that hissed through the leaves, luring the young traveller to its secret grounds.

  
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**Ehehe, two sneezy goofballs! So funny! Their colours are amazing as well! Great job, Nex! :^)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made the announcement on my Prologue, but in case you haven't seen it—there's a French translation of this story in the works! You can find it here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/62225809) **
> 
> This translation was done by the wonderful **[Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam)** They've also drawn some beautiful artwork for the story! You can check it out on the Prologue, both on the French and English pages. Such an honour! :^)


	16. Fires of the Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity takes hold as Strive and Phobos wander though the forest, fascinated by the enchanting environment. Everything seems tranquil, but deception runs rampant. The guise is soon broken, threatening the travellers with the promise of a swift demise. The fires grow fierce as they reach the boiling point—it's do or die in the devilish den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2020/12/19) Image by the holly jolly [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/69042477) **
> 
> **Includes an illustration in-between and at the end! Amazing drawings to keep the biting cold away, hehe. Marvelous job, Nex! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

Strive led the way through the enchanted undergrowth, his eyes wide and full of marvel at the breathtaking sight before him.

The emerald grotto curled around the two travellers, reaching out and grazing their legs with outstretched leaves. Clusters of trees stretched well beyond their heights, towering above the duo in a dizzying display; renegade branches coiled around the mossy trunks, spiraling upwards as they grasped for the surrounding foliage. Brambled vines littered the forest floor, their concealed presence managing to trip Strive on multiple occasions. A silent laughter followed each staggered step—he was advised to travel slower by his mindful companion.

Carefully, he followed the natural path in front of them, stepping over fallen logs and dusty rocks that jutted out from the ground. So far, their adventure had been relatively easy, save for the occasional patch of debris that would send them into an unbalanced teeter. Whenever a branch loomed in front of their path, the duo would duck underneath their leafy grasp, blocking their faces whenever a limb came swinging back with a vengeance. Strive sustained a few surface cuts from the whip-like twigs that raced across his skin. In order to counter these attacks, he summoned the shield from his wrist band, using it as a sturdy force to break through the chaos.

He looked back once and awhile, checking in on his silent companion. “Everything good?”

Phobos nodded, the persistent putter of a stick dragging behind him. Before they had entered the forest, the rocketeer had the genius idea to mark their pathway, using a nearby stick as a way to trace their footsteps. When it came time to turn back, they’d be able to follow the line across the sands. For now, the branch cultivated the earth, its gritty whisper sifting through the underbrush as they advanced deeper into the unknown. 

Since the path was narrow, it didn’t allow for the two of them to walk beside each other, making conversation much more difficult without any of the rocketeer’s visual cues. Despite this, the quiet pace was incredibly pleasant, their mutual company enough to preserve a stable and comfortable atmosphere. Without any talking going on, this gave Strive some time to think. Now that he was free of any distractions, his mind began to wander to a few things he had yet to address. 

There was something off about Sung. 

Their leader was incredibly difficult to read. Whenever Strive observed his behaviours, he could pick up on his positive attitudes straight away, almost like a beacon for those who craved a sense of joy. The doctor would crack witty jokes, pester his teammates fondly, and would always have a way of turning the negative into a favourable situation. Whenever someone was feeling down, Sung had a way of bringing them back, keeping them afloat despite the adversaries they faced. These emotions were easy to sense, practically rolling off the man like jaunty, upbeat waves. 

Then there were times where he seemed to shut down, flipping a hidden switch without a moment’s notice.

Strive had felt it a few times, the sudden shift catching him off guard whenever the viscous despair crashed into him. The change was always terrifying, slicing through his core with a potent blade of toxicity. Sung’s anguish would wrap its tendrils around his throat, threatening to suffocate him in virulent black swamps. The unexpected impact would knock the wind from his lungs, leaving him unsteady on already precarious grounds. Tremendous grief, inexplicable agony, the wail of silent torture—these wicked emotions would coil around him, sinking their fangs into his aching chest. Then, it would all disappear. As if it had never happened.

This perplexed him to no end. How could someone hold so much turmoil, only to subdue it behind an expert façade? These slip ups were rare for the doctor, often controlled with a swift, clever diversion. It was like he was hiding something, reluctant to bare his true feelings to those around him. It was confusing—Strive felt like the trail was cut off whenever he got close, preventing him from digging any deeper. It was more than confusing; it was beyond frustrating.

He felt like he should know. He felt like he deserved to.

Things didn’t line up half the time. The shift in Sung’s composure when he mentioned his experience with the Void led Strive to believe it was a horrifying event, one that cost him the life of an important ally. With how distraught he became during his dialogue, it seemed like an incredibly sensitive topic to bring up. And yet, he had been corrected by his teammates. Sung had no other affiliations outside of the Brigade; he never had another crew. For him to have lost a companion was deemed impossible. Surely something that important would’ve been shared with the rest of his companions. They all seemed incredibly close.

Their bond was definitely strong, but perhaps it wasn’t equal. From Strive’s understanding, Phobos and Meouch had been added to the group after Sung and Havve interfered with their battle. The man claimed that their interruption was completely accidental, the product of an unforeseen error in the Bridge. Strive could only assume this Brian character was tacked on soon after their crew was formed, as was illustrated by their diagram in the sand. 

The doctor and his robot were together long before they met up with the rest. Their connection was much more solidified, an air of mystery surrounding the two as a result of their prior comradery. Strive saw how careful they were when talking amongst each other, playing off their little talks as simple banter between friends. Meouch and Phobos seemed to have accepted the explanation, but he was still skeptical. The way the duo looked at him, Sung’s subdued voice, the painful gaze they forced themselves to hide—they were keeping something from the crew. Specifically from him.

So many inconsistencies and even more dead ends; it was maddening! Strive just wanted to scream his frustrations at the doctor, letting his questions flow out like an unfiltered mess. What happened before the Brigade? Why does he know so much about his people? What isn’t he telling the rest of the crew?

Why does he look at him with so much pity, sadness, and sickening regret? 

Strive grit his teeth, forcefully swinging his shield into a cluster of branches. His carelessness caused a few to strike back in retaliation, their lighting fast speeds slicing across his cheek and leaving a noticeable red mark. The site throbbed dully, causing him to become even more upset. What started out as a relaxing walk soon turned into a vexing march, his movements now rigid and annoyed. He was beginning to go red in the face, both due to his thoughts and the pesky twigs that lashed at his skin. On top of that, a tiresome headache began to develop.

Phobos seemed concerned with his young companion’s erratic mood swings, reaching out and placing a worried hand on his shoulder. Strive stopped in his tracks, turning around with a weary sigh. “Sorry, I got a little caught up in my thoughts. It’s nothing.”

The rocketeer was still troubled by his sudden irritation, swiftly thinking of a way to bring his spirits up. He looked down the narrow path, then to the sides; a steady trickle of water chattered near the right. Phobos pointed to the side, using the stick in his hand as a way of increasing his range. He began dancing in place, animating his excitement at the promise of an undiscovered treasure.

Strive looked to the side, his core flashing in a lively burst of light. “The river? Is it safe to go off path?” Phobos waved a dismissive hand, carving a noticeable line in the auburn sands; they’d have a path to follow. At the thought of finding the elusive stream, Strive's mood immediately brightened. His curiosity pushed through the darkness, sparking an eager flame from within. Taking the lead, he jumped into the dense underbrush, the persistent sift of the stick following close behind. 

Strive propelled himself over the uneven terrain, feeling as if he were being pulled by invisible ropes. The murmuring river slowly became more prominent, fueling the duo’s excited romp through the forest. The dense foliage began to recede, revealing the flat sands that crinkled their way through the woods. With staggering breaths, he broke through the viridian undergrowth, practically tumbling into the open clearing.

Narrowly avoiding landing face first into the sands, he retracted his shield and swung his arms in effort to regain his balance. While he steadied himself, he could hear the shifting of leaves behind him, making way for the red and gold figure of Phobos. The rocketeer peered around the clearing, stifling a silent gasp. He walked up to Strive and frantically tapped his shoulder, directing him in the desired direction. Strive followed his outstretched arm, his eyes widening once he beheld the dazzling sight before him.

The surrounding forest wrapped around the open clearing with a tender embrace, sheltering the crystal clear banks of the rambling river. The trees cascaded themselves above the area, allowing the morning’s delicate rays to pierce through the environment. Following the trail of water, Strive was taken aback by the gentle flow of a rocky waterfall, a natural hollow forming beneath the sheet of water. Droplets pitter-pattered against the glassy surface, causing a ripple effect to ebb across the pond. Looming around the hollow was a small, sandy bluff, the slight incline adorned with various pebbles, russet particles and the sticky hold of river moss. 

Strive took a hesitant step forwards, reluctant to disturb a site that possessed so much untamed beauty. He listened to the crunch of dirt beneath his boots, catching the subtle roll of pebbles against the natural grain. He inhaled deeply, allowing the calming atmosphere to wash over his senses. The zesty aroma of sniffletrins slithered their way into the equation, adding even more depth to the perfect experience. Strive followed their scent, managing to locate their distinct scarlet petals resting near the brook. These flowers looked much more vibrant than the ones near the shipyard, their undisturbed existence evident by their lushness.

He took a seat by the edge of the pond, lazily dragging his fingers through the waters. The pool was cool to the touch, sending shivers up his arm upon contact. It wasn’t plagued with a boggy staleness; it appeared filtered and pure, taking advantage of nature’s blessing. Strive watched his reflection ripple across the surface, the tiny waves distorting the joyous smile that crept across his face. He kept paddling the surface, splashing the water with a small giggle.

Phobos took a seat beside him, a pleasant buzz radiating from the rocketeer. He seemed positively relaxed, the effects of the secret clearing calming his strained nerves. He sat cross-legged, placing his hands on his knees as he began to breathe deeply, his shoulders rising and falling in a consistent manner; he looked ready to fall asleep.

Strive snickered, continuing his cheery splash through the crystal lake. He could see well into the waters, tracing his gaze over the millions of small pebbles that lined the bottom. They were mostly undisturbed, save for the curious gash that tore through the higher parts of the pond. He cocked his head to the side, intrigued by the alienated mark. Following the disturbance with his eyes, he traced the path back towards the hollow. Although the waters trickled above the crevice, it would seem that this layout was a new addition, one that unintentionally altered the original waterfall. He stared at the abysmal hollow, his persistent headache making another appearance.

Focusing on the cavern, his mind was suddenly invaded with a familiar voice, silently calling him towards the strange formation. Its non-existent words wrapped around his core, enticing him with unknown promises. Strive grimaced, squinting as a harsh wave of pain crashed into his head. He looked towards Phobos, his companion seeming unaffected by the invisible presence—he seemed properly asleep now, lulled into submission by his mystic surroundings. 

The desire to know more fueled Strive's advancement, carrying him with a cautious stride towards the hollow. Now that he was closer to the gash, he could tell that it was fresher than the rest of the environment, possessing less erosion than the timeless pebbles around the lake. He could see the shallow indents of the original stream, the contents having dried up once the new path was established. Strive felt a prickle of unease dance across his spine, urging him to leave the area.

He bit back his fears, feeling way too invested to give up on his discovery. That, and the voice that screamed for his presence, the nauseating howl sending his mind into a spin. The voice seemed impatient, its pleas sounding more like a piteous beg by this point. This urgency, the need to be claimed, the way his core reacted to the unseen force—it was all too familiar.

It reminded him of his first encounter with his vessel.

He stopped before the hollow, the steady prattle of water masking his laboured breaths. He clutched his core, noticing how its azure light shuddered. His chest squeezed tightly, compromising his ability to breathe. A slight tremor claimed his limbs and begged for him to retreat. These conflicting emotions swirled through his body, telling him one thing, then screaming for the other. 

He should run. _No, you should advance._ Get away. _Come forwards._ Regain your control— _Fool, you have none; you never did._

He reached out into the unknown, his arms feeling as if they were being pulled against their will. There was nothing to see, just an overwhelming darkness, soaking his skin within the sickening shade of the shadows. His core did nothing to illuminate the area, the precious glow swallowed by the abysmal night. He had never come across something so greedy, so unforgiving, so hungry for light. The only thing he could compare it to was . . . 

His fingers grazed a smooth surface, scratching across its jagged, onyx exterior. The object swiftly claimed his body’s heat, injecting frigid toxins into his veins. Strive’s eyes widened in horror as he watched his core dim to grey, the precious light ripped from his body with a torturous anguish. Thankfully, it made a rapid return, though it was noticeably strained and fluttering for dear life.

Strive choked, instantly backing away from the menacing fissure. He lost his balance, yelping when he fell into the shallow stream behind him. Staggered gasps infiltrated his lungs, increasing in both speed and concession as he tried to regain his breath. The more he breathed, the less control he had, the vital air suffocating him as anxiety clawed into his tight chest. His core flickered sporadically, his entire body shuddered uncontrollably; his headache was unbearable.

This was nothing like his vessel.

During his wheezing panic something touched his shoulder, causing him to jerk back in fear. He flailed his arms as he tried to protect himself from his blurry assailant, his trembling legs refusing to carry him away from the site. He couldn’t see. He couldn't move. He closed his eyes, stifling a cry when something tried to hold him in place. His panic was devastating, leaving him nearly inconsolable as a wretched sob escaped him.

The hands around his shoulders shook him firmly, their grasp unsteady while they held his hysteric form. Strive nearly swooned from his light-headedness, hopelessly claiming greedy gasps of air. Suddenly, the figure brought him close to their chest, their own tremors mixing in with the boy's terror. This gesture brought Strive back in time, images of jagged, black ships slashing through his tightly shut vision. Everything was dark, claimed by the claws of horrific, prismatic beasts. It felt like his core was being ripped from his chest, tainted by ebony poison.

Through the overwhelming confusion, Strive managed to slowly calm his breathing, forcing a few shuddering breaths to reclaim his composure. His panic had left him unaware of his surroundings, needlessly antagonizing him with the unimaginable horrors of his mind. Now that he was gradually recovering, he could make out the thunderous heartbeat of the one consoling him, their own distress crashing against him like restless waves.

He opened his eyes, lifting his trembling head upwards; he kept his hands above his core, tightly grasping the precious gem. With reality established, it made sense as to who came to his aid. “Phobos?”

The rocketeer nodded frantically, his body plagued with horrific tremors. He wrapped his companion in another embrace, seeming to exhale the worry from his lungs. He slowly released his teammate, still shaking from the stressful event. He placed a hand on his chest, gesturing towards Strive with immense concern. Then, he held his head in his other hand, seeming both relieved and shaken up by the entire incident. Strive could see a glowing weapon by the rocketeer’s side—he must have drawn it when he heard his cry, prepared to retaliate in the event of an attack.

Strive swallowed, looking towards the gaping crevice beneath the waterfall. “It’s—we need to go. We need to leave, Phobos. Right now.”

The rocketeer seemed troubled by his young companion's distress, disturbed by how fearful he had become. He looked at the hollow, reaching towards his side and grasping his blade. He motioned for Strive’s hand, lifting his companion into an unsteady standing position. He stayed close to the boy's side, using himself as a stable anchor for him to lean on. Phobos slowly backed away from the hollow, looking around the clearing for their pathway out.

Suddenly, Strive's vision darkened, a hideous pressure building behind his weary eyes. He groaned in anguish, falling to his knees beside his companion. The rocketeer stifled a silent gasp, quickly steadying the boy in his arms. Strive narrowed his eyes in the shady hollow’s direction, his core erupting with the flames of an intense azure glow. He inhaled sharply, following the repulsive jade that slashed through the shadows.

The putrid gaze locked its eyes with Strive’s own, the prismatic pupil narrowing into a sharp point. Electric green energy galvanized near the centre, audibly crackling through the tranquil air. With enough power charged up, Strive could make out the details of its imprisoned form, its jagged peaks trapped beneath the rubble of the impact site. The entire bluff began to rumble, a viridian hum washing over the entire area; his core was snuffed out immediately.

Strive slung his arms around the rocketeer’s shoulder, pushing him into the auburn sands. “Get down!”

A catastrophic beam tore through the clearing, sizzling through the air with a sulfuric scent. The electric blast collided with a tree, a heated explosion tearing through the entire trunk. The tree ripped apart in an instant, sending ferocious flames rippling across the surface. Sap boiled and popped from the hissing fires, spreading across the grotto like a demonic firework. Strive covered his head as smouldering ashes showered the area, the intense heat painfully scorching his exposed skin. He grit his teeth, snarling from the discomfort.

He quickly looked back at the hollow, noticing the new opening that was formed from the blast. He could see it clearly now, the ghastly nightmare trying to wiggle its way out of its earthly prison. His sensitive ears could hear it recharge, a faint emerald glow building up near the centre of its dilated aperture. Strive growled wretchedly once he beheld the beast, an immense hatred burning from within. 

Phobos began to stir, seeming a little disoriented from being thrown to the ground. He peered over his shoulder, practically jumping into out of his suit when he saw the onyx beast. The rocketeer immediately grasped his weapon, edging closer to Strive as he directed a hostile aura towards the abomination. Phobos was full of tremors, his entire body shaking from a potent combination of red hot rage and crippling fear. He knew what he was looking at; Strive did too.

They had stumbled across a lone Void ship. 

  
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The two travellers jumped out of the way when another beam pierced through the clearing, lacerating the twisted foliage of nearby trees. Sizzling bark showered the lands, singeing every surface it managed to graze. The febrile blast threw Strive to the side, separating him from his companion and easily tossing him through the sands. He coughed wretchedly, having managed to inhale an uncomfortable mixture of sand and smoke during his dizzying roll. He whipped his head around frantically, trying to locate his friend amongst the billowing smoke and glowing embers. 

He choked back a sob, fearing the worst. “Phobos!”

Thankfully, the rocketeer responded to his call immediately, his familiar helmet charging through the rising smoke. He appeared unscathed, save for the sooty residue that muted the brilliant shine of his gear. He quickly bent down the Strive’s level, checking him over for any signs of injury. He seemed unbothered by the noxious smog, his unique attire having something to do with his immunity. 

Strive coughed again, taking a piece of his cloak and placing it over his mouth. His lungs burned from the fumes, a vicious wheeze ripping through his windpipe whenever he tried to speak. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine," he coughed. He looked around the forest glade, trying to locate a coherent landmark through the grey air. “Stars, I can’t find the path! How are we going to escape?!”

Phobos seemed frustrated, a noiseless growl escaping him. He glanced across the clearing, watching as their pathway became inaccessible amidst the wall of flames. The fires were spreading rapidly, leaping across the canopies in a bout of blinding speed. In a matter of minutes, they’d be encased in a ring of fire, forced to dance with the hideous beast in the centre. The rocketeer looked to the side, dreading their next move. They’d have to escape near the opposite end of the grotto, risking an encounter with the Void ship along the way. 

Strive observed Phobos’ actions, nodding once he understood what he was planning. “We can use the smoke as a distraction. It won’t see us if we move fast.” He lifted himself off the ground, motioning for his companion to follow him through the chaos.

The two of them stumbled through the haze, remaining mindful of the debris that scattered the forest floor. As they advanced further across the terrain, they were forced to stop by the roaring flames in front of them, the vicious fires having nearly claimed all of surrounding plant life. Strive hissed bitterly, hastily darting to the side in hopes of spotting another path. 

They carefully navigated the water’s edge, sticking close to the pool in order to avoid the licking flames by their sides. The crystal clear pond was muddled with hideous ash, a sooty film dissolving into the water. The lake was a disheveled grey—an emerald glow glimmered across the surface.

Strive gasped, his ears twitching in surprise when he heard the ghastly shriek of the Void ship. The smoke was enveloped in a sickly green radiance, washing the two of them in its devilish glow. He acted without much thought, throwing himself and Phobos into the murky waters below. The frigid stream was a shock to his system, sending his core into a thundering frenzy. The impromptu swim was perfectly timed, their sudden plunge allowing them to narrowly avoid the deadly beam that slashed across the land.

Strive clawed his way to the surface, breaking through the lake’s barrier with a greedy gasp of tainted air. Phobos emerged soon after, his head turned as he followed the sizzling tunnel through the smoke; the Void ship could be seen struggling beyond the veil, watching their every move with critical precision. A shiver travelled through Strive’s body, urging for him to retreat from their watery grave. He took Phobos by the arm, forcefully dragging him towards the shore.

They had to find another way to escape. 

The two of them quickly fled the pond and charged through the thick smoke. Strive’s clothes were soaked, a weary chill beginning to gnaw at his bones—within a few moments, his damp attire fizzled beneath the heat of their environment. By that point, the air was parched and excruciatingly toxic. He yearned for a breath of fresh air, each new gasp gradually becoming a burden. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

He and Phobos found refuge behind a fallen log, the object evading the fire’s clutches for the time being. They were beginning to get desperate, every route having been consumed by the wicked flames. As they crouched behind the trunk, they could hear the sizzling crack of the Void ship’s weapon firing through the clearing, the aimless barrage trying to catch its runaway targets. With each direction it fired in, it gradually got closer to their position. 

Strive looked towards Phobos, noticing how tense the rocketeer had become; he seemed stuck. He’d peer over their resting place, only to duck back down once the laser charged up. His glove was gripped tightly around his weapon, a slight tremor evident in his grip. He wanted to attack their perpetrator, but hesitance ruled his thoughts. He couldn’t leave his position, not when Strive was in danger. He had to stay and protect the boy.

A piercing cough tore through Strive’s chest, his eyes welling up in response. He gave a frustrated growl, gritting his teeth as he listened to the Void ship shriek in the distance. It never ran out of power, a limitless energy source fueling its endless assault on the duo. Like clockwork, the clearing was engulfed in another shroud of green light, the amber flames saturated with a haunting glow. Strive’s ears twitched upwards, his eyes going wide when a silent voice invade his thoughts, taunting him with its hollow laughter. It knew where to strike next.

With nowhere to go, Strive called out his shield. He crouched behind the transparent wall, promptly pulling Phobos into the makeshift shelter. He braced for impact, watching as the tree trunk exploded in a fiery blast, smouldering shrapnel sent flying in every direction. The overwhelming force catapulted the duo backwards, sending them tumbling through the roasting sands. Due to his durable shield, the two of them made it out alive, having only sustained a minimal amount of damage. A few scratches here and there were the least of their problems. 

With their final means of cover destroyed, the two of them were left to fend for themselves in the open area, imprisoned inside the hissing flames of the forest. The fires had spread well beyond their current position, melting into the surrounding grotto with a feverish lick of its molten tongue. They were properly trapped now. 

Strive struggled with his breath, his cloak doing next to nothing as time gradually ran out. He had managed to block the minor explosion, but could he do it point-blank? Now that they were out in the open, how long could they defend themselves before succumbing to the force of the Void? Was it all hopeless?

A shuffling ruckus called for his attention, revealing his riled up companion by his side. Phobos was seething in his spot, crushing his weapon beneath his stiff grip. He looked towards the abysmal smoke, tracing the way back to their subterranean enemy. The rocketeer stood up, his body shaking with a burning hatred. He poised himself for battle, drawing his weapon with an air of defiance. 

Strive’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re going to attack it?!” he yelped, having never heard of such a ridiculous idea. Attacking a Void ship with your bare hands—could it be done? Or would it be a fool’s demise?

Phobos turned his head towards Strive, his visored gaze lingering for a few moments. Then, he braced himself, charging straight into the billowing smoke. Strive gave a shout of protest, watching helplessly as his friend threw himself into the deadly haze. He kept his outstretched hand in place, grasping at nothing while the dizzying fog swallowed his companion. He was frozen in place, his legs refusing to move as their distance became greater. It all felt painfully familiar—he imagined his star as it was ripped from the skies, horribly mangled once the darkness took hold. Was the Void going to steal his teammate as well? 

He couldn’t let that happen. He refused to be put in a helpless position. Never again. 

Strive pushed himself off the ground with a kick of auburn dust, running straight into the wispy chaos. He couldn’t see anything, the smoke having coated the land in its opaque blanket. He couldn’t distinguish his surroundings, but he could certainly hear them. With enough concentration, he could pick up on the staggered footprints of his companion, the gentle hum of his weapon strengthening his assumed position. He jumped to the side, peering through the haze as a red and gold blur materialized in front of him. He charged towards Phobos, matching his pace with considerable effort—the rocketeer nearly jumped out of his suit when he noticed Strive’s presence, seeming both shocked and panicked by his participation.

“You didn’t think I’d let you go in alone, did you?” wheezed Strive, holding his shield by the rocketeer’s side. “Someone needs to have your back. What kind of teammate would I be if I didn’t join the battle?”

Phobos hesitated, realizing how thin the ice had become. He didn’t want to put the boy in harm's way, but now they didn’t have a choice. He gave a reluctant nod, holding his weapon high and motioning for them to advance. He kept the lead, glancing frantically around their environment for any sign of the hideous beast. Suddenly, his world went turned topsy-turvy when Strive barrelled into him, knocking him away from an incoming blast.

“It’s on your left!”

The two of them crawled across the forest floor, avoiding the molten debris that wafted through the air. They followed the steady stream of emerald blasts, quickly dodging out of the way whenever it tried to land a hit. Strive and Phobos stayed close to one another, keeping back-to-back as they defended themselves against the surrounding fodder, using Strive’s shield as cover from the sizzling rubble. Despite the heavy ache in his chest, he remained steady, his core ablaze with the fires of courage.

Their advancements paid off once the ghastly form of the Void ship transpired in the haze, the jagged monster remaining trapped within its earthly prison. As soon as they got closer, the Void ship turned its jade eye towards them, its furious glint burning into their skin. The beast struggled beneath the crevice, droplets of water sloshing through the air during its flounder. The onyx monster gave a frustrated hum, setting its sights on Strive as its aperture narrowed in preparation for another attack. 

Phobos wouldn’t let it happen. The rocketeer jumped in front of its menacing gaze, slashing his sword across its pupil. The ship gave a haunting howl of anguish, a black line having carved itself across its vision. Regardless of injury, the ship attempted an attack, a pool of energy bubbling at the seams of the gash. Alarmed, Phobos jumped back and narrowly avoided the onslaught of tiny beams. They seemed unorganized, completely random as the beast fired its arsenal in frustration. Without a refined point of release, the scavenger was unable to build up enough power for a devastating attack. Instead, it could only muster a few short bursts of light, hoping to land some sort of attack in its blind rage.

Strive kept his shield raised against the barrage of light, keeping himself and Phobos safe from harm. The electric lasers collided with his shield, rattling his entire figure. He snarled at the beast, willing himself to keep his ground. With the dangerous tantrum erupting before them, it was hard for Phobos to land a clean hit. While they were definitely closer than they had been a few moments ago, it would all prove futile if they weren’t able to end their battle soon. 

From the corner of his eye, Strive saw Phobos attempt to take a step forwards. The boy pulled him back with a harsh tug. “You can’t!” he hissed. He bowed towards the malfunctioning ship, emphasizing its unpredictable motions. “It’s not safe! You’ll be blasted away if you get any closer!”

The rocketeer paused, a sudden smugness enveloping him. He waved to the weapon by his left side, twirling the blade through the air and catching it by the hilt. Impressive, but not really useful in their current situation. Strive narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what his friend was saying. Phobos motioned for him to follow his hand, surprising his young companion when he firmly grasped the glowing blade, skimming the sword between his careful fingers.

The weapon followed its owner’s command, stretching its length in time with Phobos’ gesture. Strive watched in amazement as the blade grew narrow, the turquoise glow extending into a sturdy bar that towered above their heights. The tip of the blade solidified into a defined peak, an immense amount of power galvanizing near the top. Phobos grabbed the weapon at its centre, curling his palm around the pole as he reeled his arm backwards, preparing to throw the spear across the clearing. 

The rocketeer’s blade doubled as an impressive javelin, one that was worthy of an ancient warrior.

Phobos hurled the turquoise javelin above their cover, his accuracy unbelievably terrifying as it soared through the smoke with a shrill whistle, landing straight into the prismatic beast’s pupil. The Void ship seized up, a horrific shudder enveloping the black shard. Its jade eye trembled defiantly, only to wobble in place when it realized it could no longer control its vision. The javelin held the eye in one spot, a black ooze slowly ebbing into the surrounding iris. 

Strive watched from behind his shield, keeping close to his friend in the event of a surprise attack. He kept his eyes trained on the Void ship’s darkening gaze, watching its cursed life slowly fade from existence. The wicked viridian began to dull, the harsh orange flames hastily claiming their dominance over colour. As the beast gave its last twitch, sudden clarity washed over Strive. The menacing voice was soothed by gentle interference, seeming to direct its parting words towards him. It held no malice, only a velvety softness that had long been absent from his life.

_Thank you, little Starling . . ._

The rubble around the beast shifted once it gave up the fight for freedom, numerous little pebbles tumbling down the bluff with a silent delight. The waterfall above the crevice rearranged itself in response, separating the stream into two defined pathways, the sooty waters trailing down the jagged edges of the defeated beast. 

The rocketeer advanced when he felt it was safe, carefully approaching the fallen monstrosity. He stood calmly before the beast, wrapping his hand around the base of the spear as he willed it to return to its original form. The javelin shot its energy into the edge of the spear, concentrating its power into the shape of his original sword. As a precaution, Phobos forcefully plunged the weapon deeper into the faded eye, seeming disgusted when more black ooze erupted from the deceased socket. He twisted the blade with a sickening symphony, yanking the blade out when he was confident in the beast’s status—it was definitely dead. He retracted his blade, placing his weapon back in the holster by his left side.

Strive could hardly believe it; they had actually managed to defeat a Void ship. Overcome with relief, he ran towards his companion with a joyous cry, only to be cut off by a sputtering cough. Despite their monumental victory, it would be pointless to celebrate if they were consumed by the flames of their prison. If not the intense heat, then the suffocating fumes were sure to end their lives—specifically Strive’s. 

The weight in his chest was unbearable, the air’s poison having seeped into his vulnerable lungs. He had been deprived of valuable oxygen for much longer than intended, each breath laboured as the smoke destroyed his windpipe. The fabric in front of his mouth was doing more harm than good, the lack of steady airflow unintentionally strangling him. Strive wheezed, hacking up a disgusting mix of black ash and irritation from his stinging sinuses. He felt lightheaded, his vision threatening to send him into a dizzy spell.

He stumbled towards Phobos, sweating profusely as the surrounding flames grew more intense. The rocketeer’s suit was practically blending into the fires, making him look like a devilish beast from the inferno. Strive trembled when another cough shook his body, the action sending daggers through his chest. “I can’t hold on for much longer. Is there any way we can get out?”

Phobos was fidgeting in place, his worry reaching tremendous magnitudes as he feared for Strive’s safety. The density of the flames was unknown, most likely spreading into the farther reaches of the forest. A small jump through the fire wouldn’t yield much harm, but Strive would never be able to withstand more than a second of exposure, lest he risk devastating burns. Phobos was protected by his gear—Strive was incredibly vulnerable. Unless . . . 

The rocketeer threw his fist into his upwards palm, a genius idea floating into his mind. He motioned towards Strive’s cloak, then to the shield in front of his hands. He pointed towards the pond and explained his plan, offering instructions that were both clear and easy to follow. Strive’s eyes widened throughout the proposal, finding no other option than what his companion had suggested. It was absolutely crazy, but just sane enough to work. 

Strive nodded in conformation, taking in a strained breath of sooty air. Then, he plunged into the murky waters of the pond, hastily surfacing once the need to breathe overwhelmed his aching lungs. The cooling waters were refreshing against his roasting skin, yet they also held a vital importance to their crazy scheme. He emerged from the babbling river, wrapping himself in his drenched cloak as he approached his companion, the rocketeer having offered his piggybacking services. The smoke must have made them insane.

Strive jumped on his back, keeping his soaking cape across the entirety of his body. Then, he wrapped his arm around Phobos’ neck, materializing his shield in front of their viewing path—they planned to charge straight through the flames, using the transparent slate as a means of parting the hellish landscape. With his cloak drenched in the frigid waters, hopefully they’d have enough time to escape the flames before they got to the Moebian. 

Stationed on his companion’s back, Strive held the damp fabric in front of his mouth, breathing in the thin air that was provided. It wasn’t ideal, but it sure beat the thought of burning alive or suffocating in a plume of smoke. The fight wasn’t over until he gave his last breath—they had a very narrow window to prove death wrong.

Without any more hesitation, Phobos charged towards the amber glow of the forest, stretching his gait as far as it would carry him. Strive flinched when a powerful heat raced across his body, their ruby vines grasping at his trembling form. He could feel the dampness of his cloak quickly evaporating, an uncomfortable steam beginning to boil beneath the surface he was concealed in. He willed himself to endure the pain, clenching his hands into tight fists and digging his nails into his palms. He let out a strained hissed—Phobos ran faster in response. 

They charged through the roaring inferno, cutting through charred remains with the swift impact of Strive’s guiding shield. He wrist began to quiver both from the effort of keeping his defense up and the uncomfortable sizzle that crept across his hands. There seemed to be no end to the blazing nightmare, each new area looking as devastating as the last. Just how far had the flames spread? His core jumped at a dreadful thought; did the fires already reach the crew’s clearing? 

Strive readjusted his grasp, a woozy faintness invading his mind. He hissed through his teeth, absorbing what little oxygen the forest had to offer. He could feel himself beginning to slip, his hold on Phobos weakening as he lost some of his strength. His fingers dug into the rocketeer’s shoulders in one last feeble attempt to remain conscious, the promise of fresh air fading from his mind once fears of asphyxiation took hold. Strive’s eyes glazed over, their glimmering liveliness beginning to dull beneath ashen stress.

His grip loosened.

Phobos noticed immediately, slugging Strive over his shoulders as he threw the two of them down the incline in front of them. The duo lurched across the sloped hill, kicking up a mixture of dust, grass, and bits of ash that drifted through the winds. They tumbled without any control, their limbs twisting and turning into each other while they descended further down the hill, miraculously escaping the treacherous flames above them.

Soon, their chaotic tumble came to a gradual halt, a nauseating spin dotting their vision. Strive wasn’t sure what brought him back to his senses. Perhaps it was their plunge down the hill or the welcomed introduction of breathable air that did it for him. Regardless of his saviour, he was thankful to have regained his composure. He inhaled numerous times, coughing wretchedly as he tried to rid himself of the toxins in his lungs. Each new breath was painful, but necessary. He choked a few times, a smoky hoarseness preventing him from voicing his thoughts. His coughing fit was endless, causing his eyes to well up from the pain and discomfort; he was reduced to a snivelling, wheezing mess.

Phobos seemed much better off, his helmet having supplied a steady reserve of oxygen through his feverish sprint amongst the flames. His suit was able to withstand the heat, managing to escape with a few charred corners and a charcoal-black finish. Strive could see where his hand had been around the rocketeer’s collar, a black print painted across the sooty surface. He looked at his own attire, his cloak having sustained a smouldering hole near the side, its edges crisp to the touch. 

After allowing himself enough time to hoard precious oxygen, Strive sunk into the earth with a mangled gasp, watching the steady glow of the inferno that roared above them, its orange coils actively seeking out the untouched portions of the undergrowth. Soon it would advance, claiming the rest of the environment in its devastating heat. 

Strive couldn’t help but give an exhausted chuckle at their misfortunes, his mind still wrapped in a persistent faintness. “So much for our relaxing trip through the forest, huh?” He looked through the dense canopy of the woodlands, watching the morning’s rays filter through the whispering leaves. He could tell that dawn had long passed, their original plan tossed to the side as the sun made a prominent appearance over the planet—that wasn’t good.

Despite everything they had gone through, he found himself oddly relaxed beneath the shade of the trees. Perhaps it was the shock that masked his symptoms of discomfort, falsely lulling him into a sense of security. Regardless of what he was feeling, he was quite happy to be alive. Even more so when he realized that both he and Phobos had managed to escape the clutches of an untimely demise.

“Do you think they’ve noticed that we’re gone?” wheezed Strive.

Phobos made a gesture that he couldn’t see; he was too absorbed in the canopy to look away. The rocketeer grabbed something outside of Strive’s peripheral, tapping the rocky material against the ground as he made a few quick remarks.

_"Definitely."_

“Ah. I was hoping you’d say something different.” Strive paused, feeling lightheaded once again. It was taking him a lot longer to recover from the smoke than he first anticipated. He was still stuck in a dopey haze. “D'you think Sung will be mad at us?”

Phobos tapped again. _"Probably."_

“Does your probability hold any chance for improbability?”

The rocketeer seemed to give a silent laugh, unable to handle Strive’s absurd behaviour. _"To be blunt; we’re screwed."_

Strive hummed, his voice sounding much more gravely thanks to the noxious fumes he inhaled. He kept his weary gaze to the sky, his body weighed down by an exhausted submission. He took a moment to listen to his surroundings, losing himself in the symphony of nature. Sure, the crackling flames were an unwanted addition, but the rest was lovely to hear. The swaying of the leaves, the distant trickle of water that babbled through the brook, the steady buzz of an approaching ship—

His eyes shot open, prompting him into a slumped sitting position. Strive watched the skies as a sleek shadow hovered above the forest’s surface, the yellow ship tearing through the canopy once it located the dishevelled duo. The vessel lowered itself to the ground, swiftly cutting the ignition that roared from the engines. Strive could see the figure inside the ship, their hysteric aura crashing into him like the waters of a raging stream. An angry presence loomed from within, nearly overshadowing their immense anxieties.

Strive collapsed to the earth with a sigh, a guilty smile etched across his face once he heard the sporadic gallop of approaching footsteps. He let out a strained chuckle, a nervous flicker evident in his core. “Stars, we’re in trouble now.”

Phobos nodded his head slowly, tapping the earth with a noticeable tremble to his rocky words.

_"Absolutely."_

  
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__

_Sung hissed in annoyance as his companion wrapped the damp bandages around his charred skin, fighting the urge to pull his arm from her grasp. She made a series of disapproving clicks, keeping a firm hold on the doctor’s arm._

__

__

_“Hold still, will you? Stars alive, you whine just like a child . . .” she chastised._

_“If you had the decency to be gentle, maybe I wouldn’t complain! Jeez, it’s like you’re trying to make this experience even more painful than it already is!” Sung continued to grimace while his companion worked away at his injuries, biting his tongue whenever the urge to curse crossed his mind. If only he hadn’t been so stupid in the first place, then he wouldn’t be in this humiliating position. “I could have treated myself, you know.”_

_“I’m perfectly aware of that, doctor,” his companion huffed, dragging a mocking tone across Sung’s extra title. “Let me indulge a little, okay? It’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to fuss over someone. I was beginning to miss it.” Her voice held a misty fondness when she thought about the life she had left behind, having taken on the difficult responsibility of retrieving their missing starlight. Her adventure was nearing the sixth year, each passing day increasing her hidden anguish. Hopefully their mission would yield results soon—she missed her home dearly. She missed her starlight even more._

_Sung huffed like a child, turning his head so he could look away from his worrying companion. This proved to be a mistake once Havve’s eyes locked with the doctor’s, a ruby sneer crossing his visage; he was enjoying the man's displeasure. “Shut it, you mechanical bastard! I don’t need to listen to your snarky tone!”_

_His companion narrowed her eyes, lightly whacking the side of Sung’s cone with her free hand. “Behave yourself! Stars alive, I feel like I’m mothering the two of you. There’s no need to be a jackass.” The woman purposely wrapped the bandages a little tighter, earning a displeased growl from the man. “He’s right, you know—there’s nobody to blame but yourself.”_

_“What?! I—” Sung began to redden in the face, both from the rage that coiled in his chest and the pitiful embarrassment that spread across his face. “It was an accident, alright? There’s no way I could have anticipated something like that.”_

_“Uhuh, sure.” She loosened the bandages, fitting them properly over the rest of her leader’s arm. “I told you to stay close and not wander off. And what do you do? Jump away the moment Havve and I’s backs were turned. I specifically warned you about the acidic ponds when we landed. You know, the ones that dissolve living flesh within moments of exposure? The acidic lake of the Cretichian nova? The ones you carelessly dunked your arm into when you dropped your soligram like an_ idiot?” __

_“Look, I didn’t think it would happen. I thought—”_

_“What part of ‘acidic lakes’ don’t you understand?! Is it the ‘acidic’ part? The ‘lake’? The ‘don’t-put-your-damned-arm-into-the-waters’ part? Seriously, how obtuse can your thick cone head be!”_

_“I thought if I was fast enough I could—”_

_“If you were_ smart _enough, you’d remember how the lakes only deteriorate living things. You could have used a branch to grab it. Stars alive, you could have called Havve over! For you to up and stick your hand—” his companion sighed, shaking her head in defeat. “You know what? Let’s not mull over the past. What matters is that you only managed a few burns, hardly even second degree.” She rolled the doctor’s sleeve over the injury, gently patting the tender wound; Sung flinched when an electric pain shot up his arm._

_His companion grinned mischievously, satisfied with her parting annoyance._

_Sung cradled his throbbing limb, the bandages wrapping around his fingertips and extending well across his shoulder. He flexed his arm, testing the stability of the wraps. The doctor swallowed his pride, managing to thank his companion’s motherly gestures. “Thanks. You did a good job.”_

_The woman grinned, taking a seat beside the hulking robot and observing Sung from the other side of the circle. They had decided to rest on a nearby planet, landing just before the light had fallen beyond the horizon. They had originally planned to gather supplies while the sun was still out, but things swiftly changed when Sung injured himself. With the purple haze of twilight stretching across the skies, they had no choice but to delay their task until the morning._

_The trio eventually built a fire, sitting around the flickering flames while they chattered between bites of their delicious meal. Since Sung was in charge of most of the cooking, it was practically second nature when it came to making specialized meals for himself and his living companion—Havve didn’t count. He lacked the basic necessities to even taste his food._

_Whenever they had the rare chance to rest during their travels, Sung always made sure to whip up her favorite meal, carefully staying clear of any substances that contained a previously living organism. It was handy that their palettes were relatively the same, a vegetarian diet suiting the both of them quite well. This saved him the burden of hunting down some poor life form. He never liked eating living creatures, his discomfort fueling his desire to live a meatless lifestyle._

_They eventually finished their dinner, pleasantly chatting with one another as various stories flew over the whispering flames, each member taking turns as they recalled an event from their pasts adventures. A lot of the stories ended up being about Sung, a teasing tone coming from the rest of his companions while they shook their heads at his uncanny ability to get into trouble._

_His companion brought a hand in front of her mouth in effort to contain her laughter, wrapping herself further in the downy blanket around her shoulders. “Really, Sung. With you around, it feels like I never left my home planet! I feel like I'm raising an actual child.” She looked to the side, eyeing Havve with a mischievous glint. “Well, two children.”_

_The robot narrowed his eyes, his jaw crunching into an unappealing position. A horrid sound erupted from the robot, childishly antagonizing his companion’s hearing._

_“See! You’re such a brat when you want to be, Hogan. It’s a miracle that the two of you functioned this long without my interference. Seriously, quit with that jaw. You’re giving me a headache.” The robot listened to the demands of the woman, gently setting his jagged maw back in place; he seemed to feel a little guilty about causing her discomfort. His gave her a small pat on the head, ruffling her snow white hair into a frizz._

_Sung watched the two of them interact, a small smile edging across his lips. “Technically, you’re the child. Havve and I are countless millennia older than you—you’re practically an infant!”_

_His companion rolled her eyes in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that in all of your years of experience, you never once gained the basic knowledge to refrain from sticking your arm in a pool of acid? You’d think age gave way to wisdom. Turns out it makes you dumber than a post.” His companion smirked triumphantly, sharing a quick high five with her robotic partner._

_Sung pursed his lips, an embarrassed blush creeping cross his face. “Whatever, it’s all in the past now.”_

_“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop pestering you.”_

_“Holy sh—give it a rest! You stick your hand into an acidic lake once and suddenly you can’t go two minutes without bringing it up!”_

_His crew member grinned, taking great pride in her ability to badger their leader. “I bring these stories up as a gesture of my fondness. It’s my way of showing you how much I value your companionship. Don’t get so riled up, it’s an affectionate sort of teasing.” She leaned into Havve, a shower of brilliant laughter washing over the entire campsite. “I can bring up a different story if you’d like? Surely something much more embarrassing has happened in the past.”_

_Sung felt the tip of his nose go red. “No, we don’t need to hear another one—”_

_His companion’s eyes glimmered with delight when she heard Havve’s teasing voice inside her head. She turned to the robot, her mouth agape while she listened to his unbelievable story. “You’re kidding! Sung, did you seriously—”_

_“Okay! Enough is enough!” Sung buried his face into his hands when his companion disregarded his pleas, her peppy voice prattling on about one of the most embarrassing things the doctor had ever been subjected to. He was mortified, cringing internally whenever a specific part was brought up. Her boisterous laughter filled the air, serving as both a blessing and a nauseating curse for the humiliated leader._

_He’d try to retaliate against her words, claiming that the events she described never happened. Unfortunately, his companion was exceptionally quick witted, finding an even more embarrassing story to counter with, all without skipping a single beat. Sung eventually gave up, forced to sit through the rest of the story with a furious scarlet blush across his skin._

_He glared at Havve, silently damning the robot for ever mentioning the story. “She wasn’t even there! Why does she get to hear the story?”_

_His companion smiled sweetly, pausing on the most embarrassing part of the story. She nudged Havve fondly, silently thanking him for the sensitive information. “I’m part of the crew, remember? I get to hear all about your misfortunes. Especially this one.”_

_With that, she concluded the story with a dramatic cadence, erupting into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. She cackled through the night, sputtering frantically as she tried to gain her composure against the tidal wave of giggles. Even Havve was in on the fun, a scarlet sneer invading his artificial orbs; he seemed more alive than he had ever been._

_Although the doctor was forced to endure great discomfort at the expense of his companions’ pleasure, he couldn’t deny the warm feeling that coiled around his steely heart. It was nights like this that kept him going through the darkness, filling his chest with a comforting warmth. He hoped this feeling never left him, the fires forever kindled by friendship's tender affections. It was rare to feel a connection such as this, especially one that transcended beyond the temporal currents of time itself._

_Sung had one wish for his team, an incredibly simple yet innocent desire. Wrapped in the embrace of this mismatched family, he desperately wished they could stay like this all night—forever._

  
.  
  
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**Ah! Such a touching drawing you've done! I completely agree, Nex. Strive and Phobos have so much brotherly energy—it's such an endearing element to write into their characters! You've capture it well, my friend! <:^) ♥  
**

**  
Here's what Nexeliam thought about whilst reading this chapter:[ Mora the Spider (Ori and the Will of the Wisps)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgLj-fqEzpM&ab_channel=ShinAkuma). Amazing soundtrack! I'm so happy to have had the chance to listen to this. To see (and hear!) what you imagined for this scene is such a treat to learn.**


	17. Typhoon Turnpike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a successful recovery mission, Strive and Phobos are brought back to safety of the clearing. However, their little adventure caused quite the commotion, their foolish actions stirring up a vast range of emotions from the rest of the crew. Guilt is a heavy thing to hold onto, especially when it's met with chilling disappointment. 
> 
> Their absence was a worrying situation, but perhaps a necessary one. The Brigade is well aware that things aren't as they seem on this harmless planet. A massive search kicks off, one that may yield the most terrifying results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2021/01/10) Images by the stunning [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/70308033) **
> 
> **Includes two illustrations in-between and at the end! What a way to jump into the New Year! Thank you so much, Nex! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

The ride back to the clearing was eerily quiet, each passing second fuelling Strive’s guilty conscience. 

When Sung had found him and Phobos, their leader let loose a series of hysterical shouts, his voice holding a powerful mixture of overwhelming joy and unimaginable fury. Despite his agitated state, he made sure to check the two of them over, promptly supplying an acceptable amount of attention to their various cuts and scrapes. 

The doctor’s momentary relief was swiftly overtaken by a wordless wall when he realized his crew members were in one piece. Now that they were located, he allowed himself to give into the seething rage that lurked beneath his exterior. 

He ushered the two misfits onto his vessel, his posture incredibly rigid as he marched behind them in silence. Strive could feel his gaze burn into the back of his head, his visored glare unusually harsh and severe. He couldn’t bring himself to look back, his core swamped with dread when he pictured the disappointment his leader harboured towards them. It wasn’t just his imagination; he could absolutely feel it.

Once they were on the ship, Sung kept his gaze low and refused to look at his companions, simply directing them where to stand while he prepared to ascend into the sky. Strive and Phobos followed without any protest, their shoulders sinking as they were forced into the corner like disobedient children on a time-out. The doctor pressed a few more keys and successfully left the ground, placing his ship on autopilot so he could properly assess his troublesome passengers.

Strive was the first to be looked over, his exterior injuries much more noticeable than anything Phobos had endured. Save for an uncomfortable burn across his shoulder and the shallow scratches that littered his skin, the boy was relatively well after such an intense ordeal. The most concerning element was the amount of pain that rippled through his chest with each breath, an audible wheeze appearing whenever he tried to inhale and exhale with his smoky lungs.

A series of devastating coughs seized his chest, robbing him of the chance to claim proper oxygen. Reluctantly, he had to mention the trouble he was having, specifically the lightheaded haze that accompanied his strained breathing. With the glare he received, Strive couldn’t decide if it was the smoke in his chest or the doctor’s furious aura that was suffocating him.

Sung uttered very few words during his hasty check-up, simply pushing a strange device into Strive’s dusty palms with a terse tone. “Hold it to your face and breathe in. Don’t take it off until I say so.”

Strive managed a weak nod and held the curious object in front of his face. It appeared to be a thin sheet of fabric, something akin to a white cloth. Knowing better than to question the doctor’s methods, he followed his directions and inhaled deeply into the material. 

The effects were instantaneous. A cooling sensation wafted down his airways, quickly calming any irritation the raspy smoke had left in its wake. A strange mist enveloped his lungs, carefully purging his chest of any leftover toxins. He inhaled more of the soothing solution, grateful to have the chance to breathe freely once again.

He glanced towards the doctor, the warmth of gratitude rising to his core. He made an effort to speak, only to be cut off by Sung’s snappy tone.

“Don’t. Not a single word until we get back to the clearing. Do you understand?”

Strive nodded feebly behind his mask, his feathered ears weighed down by the burning shame he harboured within. After that small interaction, their leader refused to engage in any more conversation. He remained quiet for the rest of the flight, his lips set in a persistent scowl while he worked away in silence. His movements were noticeably tense when he checked on Phobos, each action cold and meticulous as he laboured without an ounce of familiarity; he was positively furious.

It wasn’t long before the ship landed in the open clearing. Strive could feel the impact Sung’s vessel made when it slammed into the ground, the abrupt landing seeming to mimic its pilot's short temper. The hatch opened within a few moments, a shrill hiss echoing through the air while the platform lowered itself to the ground. Strive felt a wave of nausea wash over him when he thought about facing the remaining crew members. Hopefully they weren’t as mad as Sung.

The doctor glanced at Strive and Phobos, his jaw set tightly as he addressed the two offenders. “Both of you—out.”

The duo hunched their shoulders and sulked past their leader, each of their steps feeling heavier as crushing guilt weighed them to the earth. Strive kept the cloth close to his face, hoping he’d be able to hide his shame behind the thin barrier. If not for the soot that was smudged across his skin, he was certain that a persistent red would occupy his cheeks.

Once they set foot on the ground, the first to meet them was Meouch. The navy feline ran towards the ship, his hackles raised and eyes wide when he beheld their sorry states. “What the hell were ya two thinkin’?!” he screeched, his tail lashing back and forth in a fit of agitation. “Ya nearly gave us a heart attack!” 

Phobos made an attempt to explain himself through a series of quick hand motions, only to be cut off by Meouch’s bellowing voice. “Shut up and let me be mad, Phobos! Shit, do ya have any idea how freaked out we were when we saw the fire? On my way to warn everyone, I had the pleasure of findin’ out that the two of ya weren’t even in the damn shipyard! Do ya have any idea how irresponsible that was?!”

Despite his gruff tone, Strive could detect the slight catch in his throat when he sputtered his words. The beastie’s whiskers were plagued with trembles, betraying his feigned anger. The delicate chatter of his fangs could be heard while he spoke, anxiously tickering between each new sentence. Meouch was rightfully furious, yet it seemed to be a front for the fear that lurked beneath his tough exterior.

Strive could only imagine how distressed he had been when he first noticed their absence—the upsetting image only worsened his guilt.

He kept his head hung low, desperately wishing for the chance to apologize to his frazzled companion. The cloth on his face prevented him from uttering any words, effectively muzzling the remorse that weighed his chest down. Judging by how snappy Meouch had been with Phobos’ attempt, perhaps the feline wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say either. Instead, Strive looked up at Meouch with misty eyes, sending his silent regret through a crestfallen gaze. 

Thankfully, Meouch seemed to get the message. His gaze appeared to soften in response, a dewy sheen reflecting in his eyes—he was just glad they were alive. 

Their wordless conversation hardly lasted a second before Strive felt Phobos tap his shoulder, the rocketeer gesturing to the tense figure by the ship. Beneath the carrier, Sung stood with his arms crossed tightly by his chest, an impatient tap evident in his foot. Strive gulped nervously when he read their leader’s cues, willing his unsteady feet to carry him back towards the doctor. His scowl was very unsettling, a foreign sight on his upbeat persona. 

Sung glowered behind his visor, keeping his words short and to the point. “Sit and wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” The doctor trudged into his ship with leaden steps, a chilly air following his irate walk. Strive’s core seized painfully as he awaited his leader’s return, copious amounts of shame washing over him. He dared to look up, slowly sweeping his gaze across the melancholy clearing. 

He could see Phobos hunched beneath his ship, his shoulders lowered while he received a tongue lashing from his irritated companion. Unlike their usual banter, the rocketeer let Meouch’s sharp words collide, accepting every sentence the seething feline spat. He made no effort to explain himself, simply letting the harsh remarks cascade across his deflated posture, quietly enduring the verbal onslaught. Strive’s core ached for his friend. If it hadn't been for his cursed curiosity, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

He sighed into his mask, feeling absolutely horrible with how much trouble he caused. Not only for Phobos, but for the entire crew. He now realized how careless he had been, cringing at his thoughtless behaviours. He should’ve respected Sung’s wishes and never strayed from the group; he should’ve compiled like a responsible crew member. He should’ve been more mature.

It was childish of him to rope Phobos into his scheme, especially when his need for adventure was fuelled by his own selfish desires. Even when his friend seemed doubtful, he had used deceptive words in order to convince him otherwise. With devious promises, he had managed to shift the rocketeer’s mindful views, leading him into a false sense of security. Strive bit his lip as white-hot regret crashed into him, guilty tears pricking the edge of his vision. Some friend he was.

During their excursion, it never once dawned on him how the rest of the crew would react to their departure. Sure, he expected them to be worried, but he honestly thought they’d be able to avoid trouble if they came back on time. He hadn’t allowed himself to see the bigger picture and consider other outcomes. Getting ambushed by a Void ship was definitely an unforeseen event, but one that could have been avoided if he hadn’t been so foolish.

How would the crew feel if they found out they had been killed? Scratch that—how would they feel if they learned that he was the reason they lost a cherished companion? His actions could have caused Phobos’ death, and for what? A silly adventure through the woods? An unintentional dance with the enemy? A fiery demise at the hands of a wicked creature?

Strive hissed bitterly, bringing his knees to his chest as he hid his face from the world, wishing he could simply disappear. His core pulsed dully, a pitiful azure illuminating the underside of the ship. There were no words for how awful he felt.

Someone cleared their throat, prompting Strive to quickly lift his head in their direction. He stared at the stoic figure, a wave of nausea pooling in his stomach when Sung took a seat beside him. The man stayed quiet while he sifted through the medical supplies he brought over, focusing his attention on finding the right treatment for his difficult patient. Strive kept his gaze to the ground, feeling much too shameful to look his leader in the eye.

The silence was dreadfully thick, the looming force threatening to suffocate them in its viscous hold. Everything Sung did was wordless, replaced by cold actions that held none of their previous warmth. On occasion, one of the cuts he was treating would burn a fierce pain, causing Strive to bite back a hiss of displeasure. He didn’t want to annoy the doctor anymore than he already had; he willed himself to remain composed during the exam, hiding his discomfort behind gritted teeth and the medicated cloth by his face.

When Sung got to Strive’s burnt shoulder, the boy couldn’t stop himself from yelping in pain. He flinched involuntarily, quietly cursing himself for shifting during the treatment. With his movement came an instant change in the doctor’s mood, the heavy air momentarily replaced by noticeable concern. No sooner had it risen did the feeling promptly dissolve, making way for the air’s previous detachment. 

Strive’s core fluttered nervously under the silence, a tangle of words jumping to the surface without much thought. “Sung—”

“Quiet. You’re not allowed to talk yet,” snapped Sung, his harsh tone cutting through the clearing like a blade. 

Strive winced at the remake, squinting from the pain of his injuries and the rejection he felt in his chest. His ears stooped low in a sorrowful display, a slight tremble reacting to his sadness. A mournful glow ebbed from his core, silently crying out for forgiveness. He knew he messed up; he hadn’t realized how devastating the effects would become.

Suddenly, a long, drawn out sigh filled the empty conversation. Sung muttered something to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Are you able to breathe properly now? The smoke, I mean. Does it feel like it’s gone?”

Strive inhaled deeply, his achy chest no longer plagued with scratchy discomfort. It felt like the air was finally reaching his lungs, his previous lightheadedness a distant memory. He nodded slowly, still feeling apprehensive underneath his leader’s critical glare.

“It’s been long enough. You can take the fabric off now.”

Strive discarded the strange cloth by his side, taking an opportunity to breathe in the fresh air of the clearing. He could pick up a slight charred scent in the wind, the smokey remains blowing over from the blazing forest. He grimaced and looked to the side in shame, knowing full well that he was the one who caused it. 

“The fabric is infused with a toxin neutralizer,” said Sung, talking idly throughout the tedious task of dressing Strive’s wounds. “You probably noticed the cooling sensation it caused when you inhaled it. That’s the neutralizer doing its work; it quickly breaks down pollutants and rids the body of toxic materials, allowing for the user to keep a constant supply of filtered air. It’s good for clearing out harmful fumes and preventing them from building up.” 

The boy hummed quietly, his hesitance preventing him from finding a voice. He didn’t want to upset the doctor any further. Instead, he let the man ramble on, remaining attentive as he listened to his voice. It was oddly monotone.

“They can be used for all sorts of things. Depolluting lungs, filtering out dust and debris; advanced versions can even stabilize thin oxygen levels for a short period of time. Things like high altitude and open space can be negated for a little while. Obviously, they’d be used as a last resort if everything else failed, but it’s still nice to have. I always keep a few on the ship in case of emergencies. The one you used is mostly for situations like this. You know, near death experiences with the possibility of asphyxiation.” 

Strive felt terrible shame gnaw at his core—he didn’t like where this conversation was going. He swallowed nervously, interjecting with a hoarse voice. “Sung, I’m sorry—”

“Our technology is great for many things: convenient travel through the cosmos, advanced weaponry, refined equipment for search and rescue, lifesaving treatments that can prevent the death of a reckless child such as yourself . . .” He turned to Strive, a strangled laugh clawing its way to the surface. “You know the one thing it can’t do? Bring back the dead. That’s not something I can do, Strive. So why are you testing my limits?”

“Sung, please listen to me. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I often wonder what would have happened if I learned the art of necromancy during my travels," piped Sung, ignoring the boy's words. "Of course, the Necromancers died out nearly twenty millennia ago, along with their controversial practices. Never got the chance to strike up a conversation. I’m sure they were a lovely bunch of beings. It’s a shame, really. If I had learned their skills, I could’ve nercromanced the necromancy back!”

Strive didn’t know what the man was rambling on about. He bit back his building frustrations, his apology falling on deaf ears. “This wasn’t anyone's fault but my own and I take full responsibility for my actions. I’m the one that convinced Phobos to join me, I’m the one that wanted to explore behind your back, I’m the one—” He froze. He shivered as he remembered grazing his fingers across the onyx beast, his interaction causing the abomination to awaken. “I’m the one who caused the fires. It’s . . . I never should have—”

“You’re right, Strive. You _shouldn't_ have. You should have never gone against my word.” Sung’s growl pierced Strive’s core, filling him with a sickening dread. He wilted beneath the man's stare. “I warned you about staying close by, yet you still wandered off. Yes, you had Phobos with you, but that’s not the point. As your leader, you need to listen to me when I tell you something, not purposely weasel your way into trouble when I say something that you don’t agree with! My orders are meant to protect you, not suppress you.”

“But I—”

“When I let you join the team, I had high hopes for you; I still do, kid. You’ve got so much potential that needs to be tapped into. Stars alive, how could I live with myself if I let someone as promising as you wander to your death! And for no reason other than sheer stupidity!” Sung’s voice began to increase in volume, his words becoming more hysteric as he continued. “This team is built on a foundation of trust, not sly persuasions and irresponsible behaviours. How can I trust you on your own if you pull idiotic stunts like this? There’s a difference between bravery and foolishness. You’re currently teetering on the edge!”

“How many times can I say that I’m sorry?!” Strive’s words were sharp and vehement, echoing the horrid emotions that swamped his core. “Stars, I know I messed up! I just—I’m sorry.”

Sung remained silent for a few moments, eventually leaning away with a yielding sigh. “I know you are. Trust me, I totally get what you’re feeling. But I also need you to know how your actions affect the rest of us.” The doctor’s voice became hushed, his words shrouded in a faraway drawl. “Strive, you have no idea how uneasy I was when I saw the smoke rise above the trees. I was worried about my entire crew; I considered evacuating the clearing. Of course, it didn’t help when Meouch told me you and Phobos were missing. The terror I felt nearly sent me over the edge.

“The last thing I want is one of my crew members alone during a dangerous situation. As a team, we stick together and watch each other’s backs. At the first sign of trouble, we stay together, protecting one another from whatever comes our way. That’s the responsibility we’ve all accepted—keeping each other safe no matter what. So how can we protect you when you’ve wandered straight into a death trap? What’s the point of the bond we’ve built if it gets snapped apart by a foolish decision? What would we be left with in the end?

“I can’t stand the thought of any of my companions . . . no, my _friends_ dying alone. I may be the leader of the Brigade, but that doesn’t mean our companionship is one sided. We’ve built an unbreakable trust over the few years we’ve been together, one that I cherish deeply. When you were adopted to our ranks, you became part of the group. The thought of losing you is something I don’t even want to think about. I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen, not while I’m still kicking through this bleak existence.”

Strive listened intently to the doctor’s words, a comforting warmth cradling his weary core. He hadn’t realized how much he mattered to the rest of the crew, specifically to Sung. The lengths he’d go to keep him from harm was incredibly touching, especially now that he knew the reason for his overbearing nature. He wasn't trying to keep him from the world, he was just looking out for him. 

“I’m sorry for sneaking away. I should’ve asked what you thought about it first.”

“Yeah, you really should’ve. If you had asked me first, I would’ve let you go wandering to your core’s content.” Sung huffed with a playful irritation, a familiar spark returning to his voice. “I’d have a lot more sympathy for your situation if you had come to me first. Then you wouldn’t be feeling so guilty for going behind our backs.”

Strive felt his cheeks light up in shame.

“Regardless if you asked or not, I have a feeling we’d come to the same conclusion.” Sung turned towards the amber treetops and watched the billowing smoke coil into the clouds, a worried grimace scrawled across his face. “Yesterday, I noticed how you looked towards the forest in your free time, how the distance made you fidget throughout the night; you seemed desperate. From what I’ve learned in our short time together, you wouldn’t wander unless you felt it was important. So tell me, Strive—what led you to the forest?”

A terrible pain seized Strive’s chest when he thought back to the Void’s deceptive voice and the sickening persuasion it held over him. Its silent words had lured him against his better judgement, promising more than the simplistic beauty of the hidden grotto. Even as it lay dormant beneath the waterfall, the beast still called, howling for his acknowledgement. When he had given it, he had almost given up more. He palmed his core in a panic, grasping the fluttering light as if his life depended on it.

“It was a Void ship.”

“What?!” Sung abruptly stood up, his words slurred with a wretched growl. “The two of you encountered a Void ship?! You—damn it, those bastards are here too?!”

Strive flinched at the barking tone, surprised by its sudden arrival. He knew this was a difficult topic to discuss with the doctor. He just hoped that he could tell more of his story before his leader succumbed to his rage. “Yes, it was trapped beneath the earth. When Phobos and I came across the forest glade, it didn’t look suspicious at all. But then I discovered the gash across the ground. It . . . was my fault. I’m the one who found it. I woke it up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t really explain it, but I could hear it calling for me from beyond the clearing. It was a voice without words, a shadowy force that wanted me to follow. The ship sounded so desperate, like it was begging for me to find it. Now that I think about it, I think it was more of a demand. One that I couldn’t bring myself to disobey.” He put his head in his hands as the traumatic events crashed into him once more. “I listened for it; I reached out and touched it. The Void—I think it almost killed me. I don’t just mean with its assault or the flames it trapped us in. When I made contact, it felt like I was about to Fade.” His hand trembled over his core, a sporadic glow dancing beneath his palm. “It tried to steal my light. Stars, it almost did.”

Sung paced beneath his ship, becoming increasingly worried with each new step. “A Void ship? Here? Of all the places I could’ve chosen, it had to be one that harboured those wretched creatures.” Sung stopped in his tracks, realization slowly washing over him. He nearly lost his cone during his hysterical dance. “You fought a Void ship?! Just the two of you?!”

“Well, Phobos did all of the attacking. I was there for defence.” Strive called out his shield, the transparent structure showing no signs of damage. “He and I watched each other's backs while we fought. If we hadn’t worked together, we would’ve certainly met our demise.”

Sung pinched his nose in disbelief, a pesky headache pulsing behind his vision. “Stars alive, you’ve left me a handful . . .” The doctor quickly caught himself, shaking off whatever past thought had invaded his mind. “Okay, so the two of you managed to escape with your lives. I’m not sure if I should be thankful or unspeakably furious with this entire situation. Not only that, but you said the Void called to you? Did Phobos hear it as well?”

Strive shook his head. “No. I was the only one who heard it.”

The doctor looked unsteady on his feet. He heaved a great sigh. “Just when I think you’ve run out of surprises, here you are with another. Talking to Void ships . . . I’ve never heard of something like that. I can’t even decide if that’s a good thing or bad thing. It’s definitely worrisome, though.”

“There’s more to it," said Strive. "When we first encountered it, the voice was awful. Scheming, desperate, mocking; it held no sympathy for its actions. When Phobos managed to destroy it, everything changed. It . . . thanked me.”

“The Void ship ‘thanked’ you? As in, the same hideous beast that played a part in ravaging the cosmos gave you its gratitude?”

“Yes. It wasn’t the same as before. It was kind—it reminded me of something from long ago,” Strive’s eyes developed a misty sheen, “but I don’t know what.”

Sung had enough. He gave an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands up in the air with a defeated groan. “I was dead set on staying mad at you for the entire day, but now I see that my priorities lie elsewhere. Everything you described is light years from okay. This isn’t something we can afford to ignore.” The doctor motioned for Strive to follow him, calling his teammates to gather near the centre of the clearing. 

Phobos was the first to trudge over, his steps noticeably quicker when their leader called him over; he seemed determined to make up for his mistakes through punctuality. Next was Havve, the robot appearing from behind his bulky vessel. He looked exhausted, or as exhausted as an artificial life form could be. His scarlet eyes were half lidded as if he had a headache.

Last came Meouch, the navy feline taking his spot beside the rocketeer. It would appear that Meouch had long finished his irate rant, his hackles noticeably calmer when he approached the group. “What’s up?”

“There’s been a significant change in plans. Strive and Phobos’ adventure was definitely idiotic,” the two culprits bowed their heads in shame, “but incredibly important. Because of their impromptu excursion, we are now aware that a lone Void ship was on this planet.”

Meouch inhaled sharply, his claws flexing involuntarily while he listened to the troublesome news. “Ya’ve got to be shittin’ me! Here? Are ya sure, Sung?”

He nodded. “Yes. Thankfully, they managed to defeat the creature while it was still on the ground, but that doesn’t reassure me much. If there’s one scavenger, more are sure to come. Hell, I could have it all backwards; maybe this planet is already crawling with them!” Sung pointed towards of Meouch and Phobos. “You two are coming with me. We’ll be searching the planet for any sign of trouble. If you detect anything suspicious, kill it on sight. No questions asked. Got it?”

The two teammates looked towards each other in surprise, the unusual combination catching them off guard. “Yer’e not includin' Havve?” 

“No, he’ll be staying here with Strive.”

“What?!” Strive didn’t even try to hide his dismay. “Why can’t I come with you?”

“Because,” the doctor crossed his arms, sending a displeased frown in Strive’s direction. “I’m still incredibly mad at you for the stunt you pulled this morning. Phobos too, but I still need someone else to help with the search. There’s no way I’m leaving him with you again, lest we risk another unplanned departure.” He then gestured to the towering robot. “At least I can be certain that Havve won’t got against my wishes.”

Strive huffed when he heard the explanation, willing himself to mind his tone. Like it or not, Sung was absolutely right about the pairing. If he was left with Phobos again, there was no telling what trouble they’d get into, whether it be accidental or on purpose.

“Right, does that sound like a plan?” asked Sung. 

The crew nodded in response. Strive hardly bobbed his head, still peeved by the final verdict. 

“Good. We’ll depart immediately! Once we’re in the air, I’ll give you all the plan of attack.” Meouch and Phobos began running for their ships, but not before Sung stopped the russet rocketeer. “Oh, and Phobos? You and I are going to have a long chat while we fly.” Sung was smiling, but his gesture was deceptively wicked. Strive shuddered from the sheer amount of rage that radiated off the man; he felt sorry for Phobos, terrified to imagine the grief their leader was about to unleash during their flight.

Bound to the dusty clearing, Strive watched his companions charge into their ships, a quick series of pops following each other as their ignitions roared to life. Auburn sand curled into the sky as intense winds flowed from the engines, disturbing the surrounding foliage in a blustering current. The ships hoisted themselves off the ground, catapulting into the air without a moment to lose. Strive followed their unique forms and watched them soar through the haze, their colourful designs disappearing beyond the smoky veil. 

Strive sighed, wishing he could join them on their mission. Despite how appealing flying had become, he knew better than to go against his leader’s orders, especially now since he promised to behave himself. That, and the fact that he was left in the care of a certain robot. He couldn’t escape the machine’s electric gaze, his ruby eyes following his every single move. 

With nothing else to do, Strive sat himself on the sandy earth, wistfully scanning the cloudy skies above. A sudden clamour caused him to jump in surprise, the source of the racket coming from his artificial companion as he settled his body on the ground beside him. The robot looked him over without a word, staying faithful to his captain’s orders; he would remain by Strive’s side until they got back.

The two of them let the environment wash over them, inviting the breeze to carry away the morning’s hysterics. It was nice to relax after enduring such a stressful ordeal, but his stillness left him feeling a little restless. Not only that, but his body ached from the cuts and burns he had sustained. While the bandages were definitely helping his comfort levels, he was still plagued by stiff joints and tender wounds. While not as bad as his encounter with the Screamadonnas, it was still unpleasant to deal with.

He shifted in discomfort, grimacing whenever he made the wrong move. Havve seemed to have taken notice of his odd facial expressions—honestly, how could he not? The robot’s eyes were practically glued to him! Havve tilted his head to the side, lifting one of his graspers as he pointed at Strive’s core. He seemed to be asking a question.

Strive had gotten good at reading Phobos, but Havve was a little more difficult to decipher. Without any organic movements or an artificial way of producing a voice, the robot was an enigma. The only lively part about him were his eyes and even that was a task and a half to translate. Listening to his artificial drumming was one way to figure out what he was feeling, but that left very little in terms of figuring out what he wanted to say. Communication was going to be tricky.

“My core? What about it?”

The robot bobbed his head, tracing his graspers towards Strive's ship; he was making some sort of connection between the two. He brought his grasper back to Strive’s core, using another set of hands to point at his exterior injuries. Havve seemed consistent with his silent statement, willing the boy to understand his words. 

Admittedly, it took Strive a while to put the pieces together. When he managed to decipher the message, his gasped at his forgetfulness. “Right! Stars, how could I forget something like that?” He pushed himself off the ground and headed for his ship; Havve followed suit, staying close as per his orders.

Strive stood before his vessel, taking a moment to admire its timeless beauty. When he had left the clearing early that morning, he had made the decision to leave the ethereal object behind in hopes of fooling his companions; obviously, that didn’t work. Since he was currently banned from leaving the clearing, the vessel had no real purpose at the moment. Or so he had thought.

During their lengthy flight through the cosmos, he had been unable to call his vessel back into his core. Having his ship out in the open soon became the norm for him, but now that the environment was different, he could finally lay the overworked carrier to its rest. It was the perfect time for him to utilize its unique abilities—not just flight, but the incredible healing powers it possessed. 

Strive let his fingers graze the stark white surface, a familiar buzz crawling up his skin. The vessel shattered into a vibrant ball of light as the organic form travelled up his palm. The galvanizing currents coiled around his fingers, restlessly awaiting the commands of their owner. Strive gladly took the energy, placing it directly over his weary core. The vessel dissolved into his chest, a new sense of revitalization coursing through his body.

He let out a relieved sigh, his aches beginning to disappear the moment the light entered his core. Since there were so many cuts—a nasty burn in particular—he wasn’t sure how long it would take before he had a clean bill of health. He was still unfamiliar with the time frame, but he guessed that he would fully recover by sundown. He briefly wondered what would have happened if he did decide to bring his vessel into the forest. Could they have escaped the Void ship? Would he have sustained less injuries if he could heal himself quicker? Would Sung still be enraged with his actions?

He wilted at the thought of his leader’s words. Although he was willing to engage in conversation now, Sung had informed the entire crew that he was still furious with him. A pang of guilt squeezed his core as he thought back to his careless actions. He should’ve asked permission first, not gone behind his back like a reckless child. Sung had explained that their crew was built on trust, and that Strive had broken it. It was awful to think about, especially since he never meant to cause so much turmoil. He could only hope the doctor would forgive him; he didn’t want the crew to doubt him. 

With nothing else to do, Strive took the time to stare above the distant canopy, watching as the wicked flames slowly calmed their rage. The fires were contained to a specific area in the forest, the worst of the assault having been reduced to a smouldering heat. Smoke spiralled into the skies while the flames consumed themselves, ending their devastating spread without the need to intervene. Strive was thankful for this. He didn’t want the destruction of an entire undergrowth weighing his guilty conscience down even further.

Strive watched in silence, listening attentively for any sign of the crew’s return. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since their departure. He knew the sun had moved quite a bit across the sky, the shadows bending with its current position, but it did little to help him navigate the current time. He watched the dark lines stretch, elongate, and narrow in a synchronous dance with the blazing orb. Sung had tried to explain how to tell the time based on the sun’s position, but Strive hadn’t been able to get the hang of it just yet. 

He listened to the calming hum of the shipyard in an attempt to keep his thoughts engaged. He felt hesitant to examine the surrounding environment under Havve’s meticulous watch. Giving way to his curiosity was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. It felt wrong to repeat the same steps as before. Instead, he vowed to remain in place until the crew got back, hoping his gesture proved that he could follow simple directions.

With a doleful voice, Strive began talking to the robot, feeling the need to fill the space where conversation would be. He brought his knees close to his chest, using his arms as a comfortable support for his head; his eyes were forlorn and sullen. “Are you mad at me too, Havve? I never got the chance to ask, nor have you said anything about it.”

He could feel Havve’s critical eyes drag across him, his ruby glare cutting through the clearing like a knife—Strive didn’t look at his companion, keeping his vision trained on nothing in particular. The robot didn’t speak, seeming to ponder the question he was asked. 

Suddenly, he began grinding his jaw in place, sending an unpleasant whine through the air. Strive grimaced at the hideous noise, his ears lowering in an attempt to block out the insufferable shriek. “I take it you were angry with me.” The robot narrowed his eyes, nodding his head in conformation. 

Strive exhaled, a tight knot forming in his throat. “I’m sorry, Havve. I didn’t think I’d cause so much trouble. Because I didn’t think, I ended up worrying you guys. I want to be a part of this team, I really do! But I won’t blame you if you don’t think highly of me anymore. What I did was stupid and beyond selfish. Stars, what kind of crew member willingly breaks your trust?”

Havve remained in place, seeming caught up in his own thoughts. He turned to Strive and noticed how choked up he had become; he looked ready to cry. The robot felt his artificial vitals squeeze, his internal drumming speeding up in response. Watching his tiny companion tear up made him incredibly uncomfortable, a sympathetic reaction firing through his mind. He gently placed one of his graspers on the boy’s downy hair, offering small pats of reassurance. 

This gesture was terribly familiar for the artificial being. He could feel his chest ache in response to the thunderous drum that shook his form. Even robots weren’t spared from painful memories. If anything, they were cursed to remember every single detail.

Beneath Havve’s caring movements, Strive felt himself relax, his sorrows pushed away for the time being. Based on his oddly emotive gesture, he assumed that his companion was willing to forgive him. The robot could have remained silent if he was truly furious with his teammate. Thankfully, Havve made the effort to communicate with him, even if it was by other means. This put some of his anxieties at ease.

The two companions sat in a comfortable silence and patiently awaited the crew’s return. Strive could feel himself beginning to drift into an unconscious state, the excitement from the morning quickly catching up to his exhausted form. It was easy for him to fall asleep beside Havve, a new sense of security having been established between the unlikely duo. He listened to his teammate’s steady drumming, using the tempo to rock himself into a blissful slumber. 

After some time, Havve could hear the quiet snores coming from his companion. He looked over, his jaw setting itself in a humoured position. He placed a few gentle pats atop his cotton soft hair, remaining mindful not to wake him—he deserved a rest after the horrific ordeal he experienced.

Havve didn’t need to be present to know the whole story. While Sung had been wrapped up in tending to the boy’s injuries, he could hear everything the doctor heard. Whatever Strive told their leader was given to Havve across the clearing, their telepathic link allowing them to share a single thought process. It was unlikely that Strive was aware of how much the robot knew, so he chose to remain silent for now.

As per usual.

It still amazed him. The fact that his two companions came across a Void ship, and the impossible fact that they came back alive. He heard that Phobos did most of the fighting—he made the mental note to give the rocketeer less shit in the future—yet he also learned how Strive had jumped to his aid, lending his strength despite the terrifying situation they faced. It took immense courage to do something like that, especially for someone as inexperienced as him. 

The robot flicked his gaze to the sky, thinking back to Strive’s anxious question. Was he mad? At first, yes, he was absolutely irate. He was inclined to share the same fears as his partner. Their connection was incredibly strong after so many millennia together, allowing them to share the most mundane or devastating emotions imaginable. Havve could scarcely recall a time where he felt nothing. Now, he wasn’t sure if his emotions were his own. Perhaps they were the result of Sung’s chaotic spirit, creating an odd, emotional hybrid within the robot’s mind. Having emotions was kind of nice, even if they weren't technically his in the first place

There were many things the robot owed to the doctor, some of which he felt he could never repay. Because of this, he felt indebted to his leader, swearing his commitment to a single life form without a second thought. One may think that pledging yourself to a sole being was foolish, but Havve wouldn’t think twice if given the option again. Sung had given him life—Havve gave him unwavering loyalty in return. 

He promised to serve his leader no matter what, even at the risk of his own destruction. In light of their current situation, the robot had recently received a new order, one that he would never think of going against. He knew it would happen the moment they encountered Strive, especially when the gears began turning in Sung’s tortured mind. Their first encounter had been a painful reminder. After a few moments together, the connection was made. Havve remembered the frigid dread that coursed through his partner’s mind the moment everything fell into place. 

Sung still wouldn’t let himself forget the agonizing guilt, the man forced to harbour immense pain behind a cheery façade. Due to his leader’s inner turmoil, Havve wasn’t allowed to forget either. He could hear Sung’s sorrowful monologues throughout their travels, a depressed drone that always wandered between the past and the devastating mistakes he had made. At times, their connection was both a blessing and a heavy curse.

If Havve could sigh, he absolutely would. They couldn’t bring her back—she was always going to be gone. 

Both he and Sung knew this, though it was always hard to accept. They couldn’t protect her, but perhaps they could make things right by protecting him. She gave her life for the two of them. Now it was time to repay her valiant sacrifice. 

Havve gazed fondly at Strive's sleeping form, keeping a protective hand over his head. Sung didn’t need to give him orders in the first place; he was already devoted to the child the moment he learned the truth. He had been assigned the ultimate protocol, one that ruled over any other command he had been given in the past. 

The Starlight Brigade functioned with two primary goals. One was to bring back the stars. The other was to protect Strive, the child who held the stars in his eyes.

  
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“—and another thing, Phobos!”

Meouch’s viewing window was filled with two bickering icons, one being his furious leader and the other being his annoying teammate. He watched in discomfort as Sung let loose a flurry of choice words, chastising the actions of his voiceless crew member. Phobos was forced to take every harsh sentence, fuelling the guilt that already lay beneath his surface. On most occasions, Meouch would be delighted by the chance to humiliate the rocketeer. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

He had never seen their leader so pissed off.

Meouch felt sorry for his teammate, his abrasive feelings pushed to the side as pity filled his heart. As far as he was concerned, Sung should've taken it a little easier. Meouch had been very worried when he noticed they were missing, yes, but how could you be mad when they managed to come back alive? Sure, he had expressed his displeasure with their actions, but that was mostly to hold up his tough persona. On the inside, he felt like crying with relief, fighting back the urge to embrace his idiotic companions.

After a while, Meouch couldn’t stand to hear Sung’s agitated monologue. He closed his viewing window, letting out a gust of air in an attempt to establish a tranquil atmosphere. It was odd for Sung to show so much rage, especially since they’d been in worse predicament than that. Usually he’d brush off the event with a few snarky words, quickly recovering with a positive saying or action. Events such as that were quick to find their leader’s tongue, re-purposing the negative experience into a mortifying story.

Judging by how hysteric Sung was about this situation, he assumed there would be no stories about it in the future. Maybe it had something to do with the Void ship being included? Meouch didn’t know for certain, but he was aware that the onyx beasts were a sensitive topic for the man. Even he didn’t want to recall any encounters with them.

Speaking of Void ships—the planet wide hunt continued well into the afternoon, their mundane flight consuming precious hours from the day. Meouch kept a watchful eye on his screen while he ran different tests on the environment, trying to locate any anomalies on the picturesque surface. So far, their search had come up with nothing out of the ordinary. There didn’t appear to be anything hostile lurking beneath the viridian canopy, nor was there anything noticeable in the indigo skies. The ship’s radar yielded nothing after countless scans.

He understood why Sung wanted to be so cautious; a Void ship was nothing to joke about. Even though there was just one, there was no telling how many lurked in the shadows. A single scavenger could call an entire fleet over if given the chance. Meouch was trying to stay hopeful in light of this dark possibility. It could have simply been a unique case. 

While he mulled through his convoluted thoughts, someone connected to his ship. Meouch looked up, surprised to see who had called him. The feline raised an eyebrow, accepting the call with a layer of skepticism in his voice. “Phobos? What do ya want?”

Although he lacked a physical voice, the artificial code managed to relay the exhausted slope in his voice. _“Hey, Meouch. Just checking in with your progress. Have you found anything?”_

“Nah, nothin’ yet. Just a bunch of blank results. I’m thinkin’ that one scavenger was just a cruel joke. There doesn’t seem to be anymore of those creatures sulkin’ about.” He paused, clicking his fangs together as he tried to find the words buried in his throat. “Say, are ya doin' alright? Ya know, after Sung’s little rage and all.”

The rocketeer gave a low beep, his shoulders seeming more hunched than usual. _“I mean, one can’t expect to feel good after hearing their leader chew them out. I’ll be fine, I just need some time to recover. I’m still a bit shaken up, unfortunately.”_

“Hmm, I can tell. Ya don’t have that familiar snark to yer voice. It’s odd for me to talk to ya without wantin’ to claw yer talkbox to shreds.” Phobos let out a humoured beep, his mood seeming to improve slightly. “Phobos, the two of ya made a stupid choice. Sung has every right to be furious with ya.” 

_“Yeah, I know. Thanks for reminding me.”_

“Let me finish, ya jackass. I want ya to know that I’m not mad anymore; I already had a chance to tear ya a new one back at the clearin’. So if ya need some support,” this type of kindness was foreign to the feline, yet he couldn’t stop himself from offering, “ya can come to me. I don’t really agree with how angry Sung got, so the least I can do is help ya through the embarrassment.”

Phobos seemed hesitant, a curious lift in his words. _“This is unlike you, Meouch. I thought there wasn’t an ounce of tenderness in that calloused heart of yours, especially not towards me.”_

“Bah, shut up! I’m tryin’ to make a sincere gesture! I feel bad for the two of ya, so let me be nice for once, alright?” Meouch’s muzzle was dusted with a crimson blush, the sappiness of his sentence making him want to hurl. He could've left his companion to sulk on his own, but that didn’t feel like the nicest thing to do at the moment. Everyone needed someone to turn to, even if that certain being happened to be your annoying rival.

If Strive had his sympathy, Phobos did too.

 _“Then . . . thank you, Meouch. I really appreciate it.”_ The rocketeer straightened himself in his chair, his miserable aura seeming to lift in wake of his companion’s kind words. _“How long do you think he'll hold this against me?”_

“Hah, I’d say forever. Ya really screwed up this time, Phibbs.”

_“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of. I guess it is kind of my fault to begin with. I never should’ve brought Strive into an unknown environment without asking Sung first. It seemed safe enough given the initial report. I thought this planet was supposed to be harmless?”_

“I think ‘mostly harmless’ would be a better word. Lettin’ yer guard down was the first mistake ya made. Ya never know what’s sleepin’ in the shadows. Just look at the mess that Void ship caused. This planet went from harmless to exceptionally dangerous in a single mornin’!”

 _“Yes, but why would it be here in the first place? This side of the cosmos has already been claimed. There’s no real reason for that thing to still be in the vicinity.”_ Phobos leaned back in his chair, resting his head against his hand. _“It doesn’t make sense.”_

“No offence, Phobos, but nothin’ makes sense when yer on a mission like this. Ya’ve always got to expect the unexpected. Still, ya do bring up a good point. What reason did it have for comin' back?”

The rocketeer shook his head in defeat. _“I’ve no clue. But I know for certain that Sung won’t rest until he finds a concrete answer. I’d be happy if nothing suspicious pops up, but he’ll definitely become more restless if things are left unresolved. The guy despises those things.”_

“I’ve noticed.” 

Phobos was quiet for a bit, tapping his helmet as he tried to articulate his words. _“Think it has something to do with his past?”_

“Hell if I know. The guy never utters a single word about it. I’ve learned to never bring it up, common courtesy and all.” Meouch hummed to himself, carefully twisting his whiskers. “Ya shouldn't ask someone their experience with a Void ship. Those bastards have caused unspeakable pain wherever they go. I’m sure they did somethin' shitty to the doctor, but it’s none of my business. Frankly, it’s no one’s but his own.”

_“I guess you’re right. I’m already sitting in hot water thanks to my genius stunt this morning. There’s no way I want to bring up something that’ll have me killed.”_

“Ya could always ask Havve.”

_“Oh sure, let me ask the mute robot for his deepest, darkest secrets. I’m sure he’d love to comply with the lowly mechanic. Maybe I’ll ask him the secrets of the universe while I’m at it. Surely he’d tell me without batting a digital eye.”_

Meouch felt his nose scrunch up in irritation; their comfortable banter was beginning to return. “Okay, smartass. Cool it with the sarcasm, alright? Do ya want me to be friends with ya or not?”

_“Well since you’re asking—”_

“Bah, yer'e impossible. Have fun chattin’ with yerself.” Meouch went to hang up, only to be stopped by a frantic panic that waved from Phobos’ arms. The feline huffed at the childish display, a snarky grin gracing his muzzle. He wasn't actually going to leave his companion hanging. He had promised to keep him company, after all. It would be cruel to go against his word, especially when the rocketeer needed a shoulder to lean on.

The two of them continued their conversation, teetering between familiar banter and hot-headed remarks. After travelling together for nearly three years, Meouch was hesitant to call themselves friends. Sure, they were definitely willing to call themselves companions, but the term ‘friend’ didn’t seem to bode well for their image. They were abrasive, argumentative, and hellbent on annoying each other whenever the chance arose. They derived great pleasure in pestering each other, sometimes going as far as initiating a full, physical scuffle. 

The word ‘friend’ seemed inappropriate. Meouch much preferred the term ‘brother’—not that he’d ever let Phobos know. The rocketeer would badger him relentlessly if he ever found out. 

Unbeknownst to the feline, Phobos thought the exact same thing. 

Riding the high of confrontation, Meouch was about to retort with a harsh tongue, only to be stopped by a sudden change in atmosphere. He saw how Phobos stiffened in his chair, his hands hovering over the control panel as he watched the shocking display before him. “Phobos? What'd ya find?” 

_“Damn, you’re not going to like this one bit. If I’m being honest, I’m kind of scared to tell Sung.”_ The rocketeer’s artificial voice was plagued by an uneasy tremble. _“Meouch, there’s a perennial bridge hidden in the rocky bluffs._ ”

“There’s a what?!” Meouch’s eyes went wide when he heard his companion’s dreadful news. A perennial bridge was an incredibly powerful device, serving as a continuous gateway into the outer rings of the cosmos. They were exceptionally rare, the sheer force usually collapsing in on itself the moment it was created. To have a successful bridge established required an unimaginable power source, one that was nearly impossible to find. 

Such a phenomena was usually a natural occurrence, the strange gateway caused by the sudden destruction of a star. Most would refer to it as a black hole, but these observations were fuelled by a severe lack of knowledge and ill-informed media. Black holes weren’t gravity hungry, nor were they lifeless craters in the Wastelands—they were actually high-speed turnpikes, limitless roads that transported the pilot through the depths of time itself. Wielding the strength of an intergalactic typhoon, perennial bridges were the stuff of legends.

They were also incredibly dangerous. 

Phobos continued talking. _“You heard me. I don’t think that Void ship was here without a purpose. I think it was trying to find the gateway.”_ He paused, dread seeping into his chest. _“I think they’re still using it. With a highway like that, they could jump across the galaxy in the blink of an eye.”_

“Then that would mean—”

_“They’ve been using it as a way to quickly gather their numbers. Swift mentioned the unusual volume of Void ships and how they’ve been increasing at an alarming rate. With how spread out they are, it would be impossible for all of them to reach each other in time. This explains it all—those bastards have been jumping through the cracks of space! There’s no telling how many shortcuts they’ve created!”_

“Holy shit, this isn't good at all.” Meouch bit his lower lip, a nauseating wave crashing into the pit of his stomach. With a continuous bridge, incoming Void ships could abuse the highway without a single drawback—it was the same mechanic at a normal Bridge, just a lot darker in colour and more unpredictable. Additionally, the range it covered was multiplied by thousands, allowing for more distance with less energy consumption. So long as the pilot didn't stray too far off the path, they could abuse the miraculous phenomenon. Meouch soon realized that if they hadn’t discovered the gateway, their mission would have failed before they even got to their destination. A horrific thought passed through his mind: 

The Void ships would have long developed into an army by the time they arrived—they’d certainly be eradicated the moment they crossed into their territory. 

“Phobos, call Sung. We need a new plan, and we need it now. I have no idea how the hell we’ll work around this, so here’s hopin’ that crazy bastard will have an answer.” Meouch’s hackles stood on edge while his waited for Sung’s familiar tone on the monitor; his heart felt like it was about to leap from his chest. “He’s gonna have a shit fit.”

_"Well, how could he not? This is some pretty serious stuff, Meouch."_

The feline gave an uneasy chuckle. “Are ya freakin' out, Phobos?”

_“As one does, yes. What about you?”_

The monitor flickered to like, making way for Sung’s stoic visage. He remained quiet for a few seconds, eventually addressing his crew members with a terse tone. “What have you found?”

“Alright, Phobos,” stuttered Meouch, his whiskers trembling with fearful apprehension as he prepared to share their grim discovery, “I’m freakin’ out now.”

  
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**Another wonderful round of images by Nexeliam! Oh my, such an angry Meouch you've drawn. I adore it so much! It's comical and so well done; bravo!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Hope you're doing well and enjoying the story thus far. I'll give you all a little heads up in advance—I'm currently swamped with the process of moving to a new place. Due to this, the next chapter may not be out on time; it will most likely be late. I am hopeful that I can pick up speed the week after next, though! 
> 
> Feel free to leave some comments during my absence. I always look forward to chatting with all you lovely readers! :^)


	18. Zone to Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In light of recent events, the Starlight Brigade finds themselves in a difficult position. In order to catch up to the enemy, they have to make some risky moves, some of which have never been done before. With the stakes at an all time high, Strive is more determined than ever to prove himself. Unfortunately, this courageous drive that may spell trouble for the inexperienced pilot.
> 
> Some things are best left undiscovered, but how long can the truth stay hidden?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2021/02/02) Image by the charming [Nexeliam!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam) Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897/chapters/71583288) **
> 
> **Includes a bunch of illustrations in-between and a little something at the end! In the spirit of Valentine's day, I am absolutely smitten with these drawings. Many hearts, Nex! ♥ ******  
>  **I encourage you to check them out on[Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)!**

Beneath violet skies the crew returned to the clearing, their individual ships illuminated by the soft glow of the incoming twilight.

Both Strive and Havve looked up from behind their fire, watching their teammates position themselves onto the rusty sands below. Their descent seemed rushed, their ships plagued with uneven jitters and shudders. This was the first sign that something was wrong. That, and the worrisome air that entered the clearing upon their arrival, the unpleasant aura knocking into Strive with a staggering potency.

Whatever they had discovered, it couldn’t be good in the slightest.

Strive was about to run over to their ships, only to stop himself when he considered the uneasy atmosphere. He swallowed his eagerness. If they had something to share, it was probably best if they approached first. A detailed explanation would be better than his hasty interview.

One by one, the returning crew members trudged towards the fire, their heavy footsteps carrying them in a begrudging manor. Phobos slouched in silence, nervously tapping his fidgety fingers by his stomach. Meouch was no better, his head hung low as his whiskers trembled fiercely. Sung’s posture was a little different, his form much stiffer than the rest. He seemed quite aggravated, a concerning mix of bitter resentment and crippling horror wrestling within. 

Havve was the first to greet the crew members. He edged towards his companions, his head tilted to the side as he stood before the doctor. He blinked slowly, a wordless question gracing his metallic jaw. The machine listened to Sung's silent woes—the voiceless interaction a rare occurrence for the crew to witness—his ruby gaze darkening in response. He looked across the clearing, his eyes resting well beyond their current position; his internal drumming summoned a thunderous storm.

Unlike the mysterious partners, Strive needed a verbal explanation in order to understand anything the two of them discussed. “What’s going on? It’s . . . not good, is it?”

“Trust me, kid. It’s not good at all,” sighed Meouch, his gruff voice sounding more like a defeated rasp. “I’ll let Sung fill ya in on the rest. Phobos and I can only take so much rage from this guy. We’ll be spared the irate spatter if he tells it like it is.” 

Phobos gave a weary nod in response, the poor rocketeer having endured two enraged rants within a single day. Lest they risk another series of cold reactions, it was best if their leader was the one to debrief the entire situation. Strive trailed his eyes towards Sung, nervously awaiting his explanation. 

The doctor let out a strained hiss and relayed the information they had discovered. “You haven’t learned about this yet, but there’s something hidden in the faraway bluffs; a perennial bridge—an express highway through the cosmos, if you will. Based on our findings with the Void ship you encountered, we’ve decided on the reason it was here in the first place. It would seem that this planet is being used as a gateway for the scavengers, allowing them to gather quicker and in larger numbers.”

Strive gasped at the news. “They can do that? The Bridge, can’t you just shut it down?”

“It’s not that easy,” said Sung, shaking his head in dismay. “A perennial bridge is a powerful phenomenon, one that can’t be tampered with by simple means. It’s a wonder that it’s still functioning, but I bet the Void had something to do with it. They must have somehow gathered enough resources to create a stable portal, allowing them to abuse the hidden shortcuts for as long as they need.”

“We even found the damn thing,” growled Meouch. “It was tucked away beneath a rocky overhang. Judgin’ by how worn down the cave was, they’ve probably been at it for a while! Those assholes have been swoopin’ from right under our noses!” 

“Then that would mean . . . ” Strive thought back to their meeting with Swift, remembering the issues she had brought up. He placed the pieces together, a horrifying revelation coming to mind. “Stars, we might be outnumbered by the time we get to our destination! We would’ve been ambushed!”

Sung nodded, impressed by the boy’s quick understanding. “Yes. If we hadn't found that exploit, we would’ve been ill-prepared for a fight. Frankly, we’d be dead in an instant.” The doctor crossed his arms with a huff, seeming lost as to what he should feel. Annoyance was the primary force that drove him through the day, yet begrudging gratitude was beginning to take hold. A small smile graced his lips. “I know I should still be furious with the two of you, but I honestly can’t bring myself to be mad anymore. If it hadn’t been for your little adventure, we would have never found the bluff, nor would we have known about the Void ships’ plans.” 

Strive looked up, his eyes going wide at his leader’s words. “Really?”

Sung smirked. “Yeah. Though you should know that I’m still upset about you getting hurt. And nearly dying.”

“Okay, yes, you have a good reason there. But look!” Strive twisted his body around, moving without a single bout of stiffness. He even poked at one of his bandages, pleased to find that it had healed without any issue. It would seem his initial estimate had been correct; his injuries had healed by the day’s end. “I’m all better now! It didn't take too long for me to heal my wounds. Combined with your skills and the vessel in my core, I’m perfectly fine now. That should lessen your worries, right?”

The doctor gave an exasperated sigh, fighting back the urge to chuckle at his young companion’s optimism. Since he had a clean bill of health, it was as if the events of the day never happened—except for the Void ship discovery. That definitely still happened. With Strive unharmed, there was technically nothing the doctor could chastise him for. The boy’s morning excursion was overruled by the advantage they now had, their new found knowledge allowing for the chance to outsmart their enemies. 

Two wrongs didn’t make a right—in most cases, that is. Today was a rare exception. It turns out that numerous wrongs had made a world of difference, potentially saving the lives of the entire Brigade in the process.

“Kid, you’ve got to be the luckiest being I’ve ever met. You just looked death in the eye, and yet you still manage to carry that sly confidence with you. I’ll cut you some slack—you too, Phobos.” Sung turned to his silent companion, his pleasant tone causing the rocketeer to shrug in embarrassment. “I’ve given you both enough grief for the day. I’m willing to put your past mistakes behind us for now.”

Both Strive and Phobos nodded obediently, the sickly guilt in their chests beginning to dissolve in wake of the doctor’s words. It felt like a massive weight had been lifted from their lungs, allowing the two of them to breathe freely once more.

“Just don’t do it again. Ever. Do I make myself clear?” The doctor’s face was hidden behind shadows, his features obscured by a menacing silhouette. The threatening lithe to his voice was positively frightening. 

The two culprits nodded vigorously, a cold sweat breaking behind their necks as they promised to avoid any more mishaps. If not for their leader, then certainly for their future well-beings. 

“Good. Now then, it’s time to discuss the brand new plan.” Sung called the entire team to huddle around the fire, using the blaze as both a source of warmth and a suitable means for light. Like the night before, the team sat in their preferred spots and watched the doctor with a keen interest, their voices hushed as they awaited his direction. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen: now that we know about the perennial bridge, we absolutely cannot continue to travel with our current strategy. It’ll take us an entire year to do what the Void ships can achieve in a few cycles. Because of these obvious issues, we need to change our course of action. In order to do that, we’re going to hijack the Bridge in the bluff.

“There are a few drawbacks with this plan. First off, we don’t know where this thing will take us. If they’ve been jumping across the cosmos, it’ll probably take us well beyond our current position, probably somewhere undocumented. Since the Void ships don’t value comfort like living creatures, I can’t promise that our destination will be hospitable—I can’t guarantee a safe landing either. In addition to this, we risk charging directly into the unknown without a glimpse at our environment. For all we know, that portal could lead us right into an entire swarm, effectively ending our mission the moment we fly out of the Bridge.

“The last issue is a pretty dubious one, something that we’re all aware of. Well,” Sung turned to Strive, offering a sympathetic shrug, “most of us. See, perennial bridges haven’t been investigated that much; there are very few documents regarding the rare phenomenon. With how finicky they can be—things like disappearing the moment they’ve been established, ill-informed research, urban legends surrounding their powers—there isn’t much known about how they work. While we know that they cover greater distances with a fraction of the normal energy consumption, that doesn’t mean they’re easy to navigate. If you get thrown out of the Bridge, the force will overwhelm your ship, causing devastating power failures. One wrong move and you could find yourself millions of parsecs away from the team, banished to the depths of the Wastelands without a way to return.” 

Upon hearing a description of this unique Bridge type, Strive felt a little anxious about travelling through the unpredictable gateway. “Can’t you just go back the way you came? Surely being lost wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Our ships are tethered, are they not?”

“You’re right, but also wrong. Perennial bridges function as a one-way type of deal—once you’re in, that’s your only chance to get through. Unlike a normal Bridge, you can’t summon a perennial bridge. It’s much too powerful for our current technology to handle. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to do anything once your ship is thrown from the gateway on account of massive power failures. The moment you crash into the sides, the ship gets overwhelmed, resulting in a complete shutdown. I pity the poor souls who had to find that out for their research . . . 

“As for tethering: the link can only go so far before the connection is broken. Multiple light years isn’t a problem, but millions of parsecs are. It’s way too far to pick up a signal. Plus, tethering requires your ship to have a power source. If you’ve lost all power, there’s no energy code for us to follow. Basically, a perennial bridge can be a huge time saver if you’re cautious, but they can also have a hand in ending your life. It’s like a double-edged sword, holding the capabilities for great advantages and staggering weakness.” 

“I see.” Strive felt increasingly apprehensive of the highway the longer Sung explained it. The risks attached to it sounded devastating, threatening to outweigh any sort of reward the group could possibly gain. “Have you ever travelled through one before?”

“Me? No, I’ve never done it. I tried to once, but the gateway closed before I ever got the chance.” The doctor gave a sheepish chuckle and scratched the back of his helmet. “Havve gave me quite the earful when he saw me dive for the portal! We’d been chasing one for a while by that point; I was hellbent on passing the boredom with a little excitement, you know? They—” his smile faltered momentarily. He paused, catching his train of thought before it derailed. “ _He_ was salty for a while, that robot. Wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise while he criticized my carelessness. At that time, I was just curious; now I know how foolish I was for trying. I could’ve ended up in a world of trouble if I entered unprepared.”

This didn’t ease Strive’s fears one bit. “Have any of you flown through a perennial bridge?”

The remaining crew members collectively shook their heads, their inexperience showing through uneasy grimaces and fretful fidgets. The gateway in the bluffs was something they were unfamiliar with, a new experience they had yet to claim for themselves. The Brigade had some of the bravest members in the entire cosmos, but that didn’t mean they were without their doubts. The warp was unpredictable, potentially causing a disaster if things went awry. Was this really something they wanted to entangle themselves with?

“This gateway,” he questioned, “could get us one step closer to bringing back the stars, right?”

Sung nodded. “If everything goes well, this’ll help us in a major way. In order to best your enemy, it’s wise to follow their every move. If that means using their technology, then so be it. Honestly, this portal may be our only shot to catch up. Like it or not, we were already months behind the moment we started this mission. If this is the only way we can recover, I think it’s worth the wager.”

While the risks were undoubtedly high, the pay off seemed much higher. Enhanced travel speed, covering more distance, gaining the upper hand on the overpowered enemy—it all held immense promise for their cause. At first, Strive had been reluctant to consider this dubious travel as an option, but now the phenomenon’s mysterious veil gave him a sense of exhilaration. To conquer a legendary force was something he found himself drawn to, the capricious gateway acting as the ultimate gamble during their mission. 

The stakes had suddenly gotten higher, and Strive was eager to test the waters.

“I say we do it.” Strive pushed his fears to the side struck a confident pose, his core becoming enveloped in a tremendous azure shine. His light scattered across the dark clearing, illuminating the unique features of those around him. Sure, the dangers they might encounter were terrifying to think about, but he couldn’t possibly give up now. He had made a promise to advance no matter what obstacles he faced. The possibility of death wasn’t an impossible barrier, it was just a tricky obstacle to overcome.

Meouch turned towards him, his low grumbles coming out slow and cautious. “Are ya sure, kid? This thing isn’t somethin’ to take lightly. It’s entirely possible that somethin’ could go horribly wrong. Are ya still willin’ to go through with it?”

“Of course! I won’t let a few inconveniences shake my composure. I promised to join you guys no matter what comes our way, and I’ve no intention of breaking that promise. The odds may be stacked against us, but that’s no excuse for me to back down.” Strive grinned, a fierce light burning from within his core. “We have a shot at winning, I just know it! Let’s take back what’s rightfully ours!”

“Ha! Now that’s what I like to hear!” Meouch seemed to loosen up when he heard Strive’s words. He leaned towards Phobos with a bellowing laugh, slugging his powerful arms over the rocketeer’s shoulders. He shook his companion in his giddy fit, flashing his fangs in a wide smile. “How 'bout it, Phobos? Are ya feelin’ up to a brand new adventure?”

The rocketeer stood proudly beneath the feline’s grasp, nodding his head vigorously as renewed moxie heightened his spirits. He raised his arm to the air, pumping his fist as a silent cheer flowed from his chest. Both Meouch and Strive emulated the perceived shout, hollering out their own energized cries.

Strive found himself wrapped in a joyous guffaw, his emotions reacting to the pleasant energy in the clearing. He turned to the robot by his side, searching his scarlet glare for a silent answer. “What’ll it be, Havve? Are you coming along as well?”

The mechanical being said nothing, simply letting his eyes rest on his young companion's excited form; the boy's gaze was set ablaze with a scorching intensity, a valiant cavort contained within his celestial eyes. Havve felt his vitals stir in response, his tempo quickening as he began to mimic the group’s enthusiasm—specifically Strive’s. The robot placed a grasper atop Strive's cotton wisps, offering encouraging pats while he raised his remaining arms with mechanical passion. He twitched his jaw into a higher position, a series of grinding whirrs voicing his eagerness. 

Strive laughed happily beneath his companion’s hand, leaning into Havve with a jovial smile. He tapped the robot’s grapser, prompting the being to lift his arms in surprise. He offered his palm as a way of sealing their deal. Havve blinked when he recognized the gesture, quickly swiping his hand across the surface with practised precision. His circuits fired at lightning fast speeds, a familiar image playing in his mind. 

It had been a while since he allowed himself to think that far back; it was nice, if not a little bittersweet. 

From across the circle, Sung watched his teammates caterwaul around the fire, their resolve having achieved new heights in response to Strive’s brave declaration. Their initial findings had been catastrophic, an enormous force that threatened to shake their confidence against the battle they were fighting. Sung was already plagued with his own doubts, his obvious displeasure most certainly rubbing off on the other crew members. He had tried to hide it, but he could sense that he had unintentionally fuelled the crew’s hidden unease. 

Thankfully, it would seem that Strive was able to forge his own path in light of the news. His boisterous attitude was enough to give the group a much needed pick-me-up, his courageous stance fuelling their drive for victory. Had it not been for his determination, Sung foresaw a depressing alternative, one full of crushed dreams and withered passions. Had it not been for him, the mission would’ve been doomed by the time they exited the stratosphere. 

The boy’s bravery was commendable, even if it did get him into numerous troubling situations. His naivety was a dangerous trait, yet a refreshing quality to possess—he was always eager to broaden his knowledge, choosing to explore the cosmos with the same amazement as a small child. His defiance was maddening, but remarkable all the same. The chances of encountering such a valorous soul were astonishingly improbable. 

But it was never impossible. After all, the doctor had somehow managed to stumble across two of them in the same time period.

Sung allowed a small smile to make its way across his lips. He gazed fondly at the group, his subdued grin turning into a humoured smirk when his companions called him over, their riled up voices and gestures adding even more heat to the fire they gathered around. The doctor let a high pitched cackle escape his chest as he went to join the group, their genuine passions embracing him in their affectionate glow.

The atmosphere erupted with a fiery blaze as waves of fearlessness crashed into each of the crew members. Their spirits rose in unison with Strive's exuberant cries, his bold declarations ridding the group of any previous hesitation. Just beyond the mountains lay their key to victory, a way for them to take back their lead once and for all. They could have easily chosen to cower in the darkness, but instead they danced with the fire’s defiant shadows, kindling their drive to advance beyond their limits. 

Their journey was about to reach new levels of difficulty, and yet the boisterous crew couldn't care less. So long as they had each other, they could outlast even the most foul creatures imaginable. The night concluded with a roaring symphony of cries, their fates sealed as they entwined their courage into one force, throwing their hands to the air and promising to bring victory to the blank skies above.

  
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The Brigade awoke early in the morning, their spirits still supercharged with anticipation from the night before. With such a buzzing atmosphere, it was difficult for Strive to get a wink of sleep. Thankfully, he had managed to sneak a quick nap before the dawn broke across the skies, his momentary state enough to fully recharge his reserves. With such an important day ahead of them, he didn’t need sleep; he needed excitement.

In response to his desire, the incoming bluff was more than capable of delivering a potent dose of feverish curiosity.

Strive looked through his viewing window, relishing in the gentle winds that swayed across his vessel. He looked across the new terrain, an unusually dark pit catching his eye among the dawn’s early glow. He focused on the approaching speck, his keen vision locating the anomaly immediately. 

He soared between his teammates, his vessel swinging through the skies as it mimicked his impatience. He could see the bluff coming into view, its features becoming more refined once they neared the ominous hollow. It didn’t appear dangerous, nor did it seem all that spectacular. Such a location would have remained inconspicuous to most travellers, prompting the average explorer to simply walk past the unassuming cave. Due to their new knowledge, the bluff held a renewed sense of importance, perhaps serving as their most significant find yet. In just a single cycle, this craggy den had suddenly become the most valuable item in the entire cosmos.

The team kept their positions tight as they neared the hidden gateway, their anxieties beginning to rise once the closed the distance between the open skies and the confinements of the cave. They each replayed their leader’s instructions for the early morning, going over every step as if it were some sort of mantra. They knew what to expect, but they were advised to keep their expectations flexible. So long as they followed each instruction to a tee, they shouldn’t have any issues—hopefully. With that being said, anything could go awry without a moment’s notice. It was their job to adapt to the unpredictable passage as best they could, lest they risk devastating results.

The bluff was almost upon them, its shadowy maw suffocating any source of incoming light. Just as Meouch had previously observed, the cave was indeed worn away, the rocky tunnel having been calloused with the Void ships’ prolonged usage. Strive could see the faint outline of numerous stalagmites lining the entrance, their jagged points shredded to a blunt edge from the flow of incoming vessels. He shuddered when he beheld the sinister cavern, his imagination running wild as the entrance became the spitting fangs of a savage beastie. 

He cocked his head to the front when a familiar chime rang through the hull, his screen erupting with the stoic faces of his companions; they seemed ready for the task ahead of them. Strive observed their individual figures, trying to get a read on how each of them was feeling. While he couldn't detect any sort of hesitation, he was nearly floored by the burning resolve that hissed beneath their exteriors, their individual drives setting his core ablaze with a glaring shine. He grinned broadly, narrowing his eyes in anticipation as he hovered his palms over the vessel’s pillars. His fingers flexed above his controls, eager to advance into the unknown. 

“So, this is the bluff you were talking about?” he asked, directing the question towards their leader. 

“Yes, but don’t be fooled by its mundanity; that cave may be our only key to victory.”

Strive nodded, his eagerness nearly driving him mad. He willed his arms to remain steady, fighting the urge to rocket into the unknown. 

The doctor spoke to his teammates, his voice steady and sonorous. “One by one, we’ll infiltrate the cavern. The order will follow myself, Strive, Havve, Meouch, and Phobos. Keep your engines revved and ignited throughout the entire course of travel. Keep your focus forwards and don’t look back. Whatever you do, make sure to never touch the edge of the Bridge—you’ll be as good as dead if you get separated in there. The jump should be relatively quick, but it’s incredibly important to keep your guard up at all times, okay?”

Everyone nodded in understanding, the air becoming noticeably strained as they gave collective gulps of unease. This was a new experience for all of them, one they couldn’t afford to mess up. Strive felt a pressured weight build in his chest, the stakes of this jump feeling particularly high for him. He was the most inexperienced of the bunch, therefore it was crucial that he proved he was ready for this treacherous assignment.

Sung seemed pleased with everyone’s cooperation. “Then let’s get going. Don’t hesitate—just go forwards!”

Strive’s screen blinked out of existence as the crew prepared their engines, a high pitched whine echoing across the drowsy morning skies. A flash of golden light catapulted into the rocky cavern, its blinding trail carving through the sleepy terrain. Strive brought his palms onto his controls and summoned the white hot ignition of his vessel. The carrier screeched in response, diving its pristine form into the shadowy crevice without a second thought. A small gasp escaped him once his vessel descended into the darkness, a frigid chill seizing his core upon entering the strange phenomenon.

The passage was unspeakably dark, hideously abysmal like the Void ships themselves. The cavern swallow every bit of light his vessel produced, hungrily lapping their sinister tendrils across its exterior. His entire form was doused in a mundane shade of grey, his core trying its best to shine through the bleakness. Unwelcomed dread slithered across his skin and slowly crawled into his chest, gripping his vitals with frozen claws. Strive looked around frantically, the doctor’s light appearing lost in the darkness. He inhaled sharply, a slight tremble gracing his fingertips. Had he somehow gotten lost in the shadows?

He looked towards his screen in a panic, summoning his leader to the window in a bout of desperation. “Sung! Are you still there?”

The intercom crackled to life, the voice on the other end seeming worried between static interference. His image did not appear, an error message scrawled across the window. “Just keep going forwards, kid! Don’t do anything else, alright? We have to make it through the gateway no matter what.”

The torrential shadows were littered with grey sparks, their electric angles hastily jumping across the circumference of the tunnel. Strive felt one of them graze his ship, an unpleasant jolt coursing through his vessel. His ship wobbled precariously in response. He grimaced, a dull throb invading his mind. _Stars, not this again._

“Something’s—argh. How much longer until we break the surface?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be much longer now. I need you to stay focused, kid. Don’t let this shake you up.” Upon hearing the strain in Strive's voice, a thin layer of panic creep into the doctor's words. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Strive scoffed, not wanting to cause his leader any unnecessary concern. He swallowed his growing unease, forcing himself to keep a steady façade in his words. “Your ship, I’ve lost it. How do I know if I’m going the right way?”

“This gateway only goes one direction. So long as you keep going straight, we’ll all meet up at the end . . . probably. Even if you can’t see me, trust me when I say that I’m here. We can’t look back, but I know for certain that the rest of the team is hot on the trail.” Strive could hear him fiddle with something on his end of the line, the familiar shimmer of his soligram echoing in the back. “Yes, they’re all following us according to plan, so don’t worry if you can’t see them. Light doesn’t carry well in a perennial bridge; it just gets swallowed the moment it touches the darkness.”

Strive looked over the dull hue of his vessel, the sudden grey making much more sense now. However, this did little to soothe his fears. It felt like he was contained within a smothering cage, the walls getting progressively tighter as time went on. He groaned when his headache worsened, wincing in discomfort as he glared through the viewing window. There appeared to be no end in sight. “How much longer?”

“Hold steady, kid. We’re nearly there.” Sung’s authoritative tone dissolved as he listened to the increasing distress in his young companion’s voice. He tried to establish a visual connection, only to fail when their signal was blocked yet again. The doctor’s words rose with a frantic inflection, his concern spilling over the surface. “What’s wrong? You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Their connection was slowly deteriorating, much like Strive's strength. The static interference was getting worse by the second, their words becoming harder to decipher as they flew through the treacherous gateway, each syllable rendered choppy and staggered by sudden cuts. By this point, it was impossible to deny it any longer. Something was absolute wrong.

“I’m not sure. I—!” He felt himself consumed with a suffocating dread, the lingering darkness sending his thoughts into a tumble. The team has assured him that this was similar to a normal Bridge, but this nauseating force was nothing like the warmth he felt during his colourful jumps. It was bleak, chilling, empty—deathly. He shook his head, a terrible headache clawing behind his vision. “It’s awful, Sung. Stars, it’s unbearable!”

“No, no! Kid—Strive, do not let go! Do you hear me?! Keep your composure for a little while longer! We’re almost through, okay?” Sung’s voice was beginning to crackle into an incoherent static, his connection rapidly fading as Strive’s position faltered. “Strive! You—stay there and—Havv—et the kid, get t— _get the kid!_ ”

Strive shut his eyes as devastating talons ripped across his flesh, their invisible assault throwing him to his knees with a gasping breath. His vessel gave a sorrowful hum, its strength fading the moment he let go of the controls. The walls of the perennial bridge began to close around him, the menacing borders threatening to pull him into an unknown land. His vessel lost all power, its wings swinging lifelessly by its sides as it spiralled through the open air. He was thrown across the hull with a crushing force, the impact sending his vision into a tumbling swirl. 

He withdrew into a ball as foul trembles wracked his body. This wasn’t right. _He_ wasn’t right. He was never meant to be here. He grit his teeth when an unknown emotion pierced his core, numbing the bright gem with a sinister essence. Something was laughing at him in the darkness, coddling him with its poisonous grasp. He felt fear seize his chest and slash into his vitals with an awful wickedness, lacerating his entire nervous system. He gave into the unbearable pain, a haunting yowl ripping through his core as he reached for something to dig his nails into, his arms forced to endure the terrible lines he carved across his skin.

He felt tainted, poisoned by a desolate demon.

The pain was unimaginable, a primal caterwaul escaping the tortured boy. He could hardly make sense of himself, his mind having been engulfed in a sickening blackness. He clawed at his head, begging for the torment to end while his mind roared with sinister drawls. He felt anger rise in his chest, a feeling that wasn’t even his own to begin with. It was chilling, whispering into his ears with a terrifying persuasion. Nearing his wits end, Strive felt inclined to give into the horrendous purr.

A sickly green crept into his blurred vision.

No sooner had it arrived did the ghastly shade vanish beyond the veil, a sudden impact managing to steady the boy's catastrophic tumble. The jarring force pulled him from his grievous torment, guiding his shell-shocked vessel through the endless seas of black and grey. Strive gasped for breath and begged for the residual pain to disappear, his body weak and damaged from the horrific stress he endured. He turned his head weakly, dragging his eyes over his arms; it looked like a beast had mauled him—he soon realized he had done it to himself. He pulled his sleeves down, refusing to look at the uncomfortable marks. 

He sunk to the vessel’s floor, his mind plagued with a persistent delirium as he tried to make sense of his situation. The impact he felt had been sturdy, a sensation unfitting for the treacherous tendrils of the Bridge. He felt his vessel rock in time with a bellowing drum, the consistent tempo managing to ease his distraught thoughts. Strive inhaled sharply, a choppy laugh sputtering from his chest when he realized who had come to his aid. 

There lie his vessel in the crook of Havve’s viewing window, the weary carrier cradled by the larger ship’s protective form.

The robot nearly had a metaphoric heart attack when he heard Sung’s hysteric pleas crash through his mind, his desperate wail enough to send his circuits into overdrive. At first, Havve saw nothing when he flew through the troublesome gateway. Then he saw a sickening sight; a small white vessel tumbling in his direction, its wings limp like a butterfly in the wind. His ruby gaze sparked to life.

Havve immediately jumped into action, careening his ship in a daring maneuver as he rushed towards the fallen vessel. Due to his ship’s bulky exterior, the robot was at the most risk for grazing the edge of the tunnel, spelling disaster for his travels if he touched the sides. Luckily, his quick thinking and lightning fast reflexes managed to save both himself and the boy from an untimely demise, a minor crack across his windshield forming from the rescue. 

Due to their distance, Havve was having a difficult time establishing a connection with his partner, their link becoming much too difficult to uphold in the strange environment. He'd been able to hear Sung’s soul churning cry, but perhaps it had less to do with distance and more with the visceral reaction it stemmed from. Unable to assure his worrying partner, he forced himself to continue through the Bridge, both for Strive’s safety and Sung’s wavering sanity.

The robot willed his ship to advance at breakneck speeds, remaining mindful of how much he moved in order to secure his vulnerable passenger. During his flight, Havve tried to contact the little bird on his window; their close proximity allowed his image to shimmer on the opposing monitor, providing a clear view of Strive’s dishevelled form within the hull. 

He looked rough, but conscious nonetheless. Havve could see his weary eyes light up at the sight of his metallic exterior, a relieved grin wobbling to the surface. It looked like he was trying to speak, but his words were lost by staggered breaths. Instead, he simply nodded his head in gratitude, cradling his arms as a pitiful shake claimed his body. Havve’s vitals stirred painfully at the sight, his ruby gaze narrowed as he winced in response—how could this have even happened?

Havve kept an eye on Strive’s monitor for the remainder of their jump, observing every strained movement he made. For a being as technologically advanced as him, it was admittedly difficult to keep his concentration on both of his tasks. He had to remain attentive to the road in front of him, yet his protocol forced him to remain close to the boy no matter what. His mind was in direct conflict with his commands, frazzling his complex circuits with an overload of information. Technology and raw emotions were a match made in Hell; they were never meant to function together, let alone reside in a single body. 

Suddenly, the ship’s sensors fired a roaring alarm. Havve twitched his head to the disturbance, artificial dread swamping his circuits when he beheld the warning—if he could gasp, he most certainly would. He turned towards the monitor, his ruby eyes alive with vermilion panic. The blackness was beginning to dissipate, revealing an unknown terrain beyond the peeling tendrils. Unfortunately for the duo, their landing was about to get quite precarious. The robot looked into Strive’s screen, nearly deaf from his internal drumming as he made an extraordinary choice, one he thought he’d never repeat in his endless lifetime. 

Three years of silence down the drain, but it was well worth it in his eyes. 

Strive’s eyes widened when Havve’s words infiltrated his vessel, the boy having never heard such a tone in his life. The robot was trying to decide if his companion was shocked by his voice or the news he hastily shared. Whatever he got from the gesture, Havve was incredibly grateful when he saw his passenger brace for impact, his image crackling off screen the moment they catapulted into the strange new land.

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


Strive’s vessel tumbled through the open air, a granular crunch echoing through the inside as he plummeted into the dusty dunes. His ship flipped through the sands at terrible speeds, flinging showers of orange particles into the atmosphere. He was tossed across the hull, his body flying into the surrounding walls without any sort of buffer between impacts. Unable to find his bearings, he reached out to the nothingness and silently begged for the vessel to stop. 

He managed to graze his fingers across the walls of the ship, channelling the essence into a specific point by his fingertips. The vessel reacted immediately, a blinding light erupting from the inside. Strive grimaced, bringing his hand to his core as he willed the carrier to retreat. The sturdy vessel shattered out of existence, its bright current soaring into his chest. Without the protective shell of his ship, he rolled through the sands and kicked up a cloud of dirt, the grainy substance managing to wiggle its way into every article of clothing. No sooner had he crashed did his descent finally come to an end, his body sliding upwards against a small hill.

Strive coughed and spat frothy sands from his mouth, the dry flavour both disgusting and uncomfortable to endure. He brought his trembling hands to his cotton soft hair, cringing as he flicked mounds of dirt from his dishevelled wisps. He paused, placing an unsteady hand over his core. He breathed a sigh of relief, the treacherous Bridge having lost its control over his body. Now that he was no longer confined in the ominous gateway, it felt as if he was freed from the clutches of a suffocating beast, his mind clear from those terrifying thoughts. 

His relief was short lived. He jumped to his feet, his eyes wide as he scanned his new surroundings. The skies were a dreary black, void of any moons or accompanying suns. Despite the lack of an established light source, the terrain glowed a fiery amber, the swaying dunes stretching miles across the uninhabited lands. From a distance, he could make out the vague shapes of scattered boulders, their chalky exteriors mimicking the same deathly appearance as bones. Well into the distance, he could have sworn the strange rocks looked almost humanoid, their organic shapes mimicking the generic form of a living being’s head.

Strive scanned the desolate lands, narrowing his eyes when a dust storm kicked up in the wind. He called out to his robotic companion, his desperate cries howling against the shrill winds. “Havve! Where are you?”

He listened against the blustering draft, trying to locate the distinct drum of his teammate. The breeze curled around his cloak, prompting the fabric to flap chaotically through the winds. He held his arm in front of his eyes as another dust storm assaulted his vision, millions of sharp particles dotting his skin with an uncomfortable sting. He blinked rapidly, ridding himself of the pollutants. Without any sort of cover, he was extremely vulnerable to the elements. Strive palmed his wavering core, calling for his vessel to make an appearance.

Nothing happened.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion, pressing down on his chest as he willed his vessel to appear. The ethereal beast refused to comply, choosing to remain nestled within his ebbing core. He blinked at his chest in surprise, his vessel’s refusal leaving him both frustrated and perplexed by the situation. He tried again, concentrating all his power into a single action. When his efforts proved useless, a nervous wave enveloped him. Why couldn’t he call his vessel?

He looked down at his core, carefully observing the familiar azure light. Everything seemed normal, so why couldn’t he summon his ship? Strive tapped the gem once more, a fearful bubble rising in his throat when his touch became more frantic, quickly turning hysteric as more time passed. Unusual frustration darkened his vision, causing him to lash out in a fit of rage. He kicked the sands beneath his feet, sending a cloud of noxious dust into the air. He grit his teeth in irritation, fighting back the urge to mindlessly claw at his chest. 

He was too preoccupied to notice the strange shimmer that danced through his core, an ominous shadow passing over the azure glow. It was nearly impossible to detect, a fleeting existence that most would never even notice—this included Strive as well.

Strive huffed in irritation. His rage began to subside, his breath coming out in strained, angry gasps. He was mad for making a fool of himself. He was frustrated by how vulnerable he had proven himself to be. He was enraged by his weakness—he was petrified when he realized how alone he was.

He looked across the desert, whipping his head frantically as he tried to locate his companions. He called out for Havve, hopeful that the robot hadn’t crashed too far from his own landing site. Without his vessel, locating his teammates was going to be an incredibly difficult task. Despite this worrying thought, a sliver of hope remained in his core, a promising outcome sure to follow. If his teammates had their ships, they still had a chance of reuniting with everyone.

Strive ran up the sifting sands, using the winds to carry his shouts further. He kept his voice strong, refusing to yield to fatigue as he trudged up the looming dunes. It wasn’t long before he reached the peak, a new version of the bleak terrain revealing itself to him. He glared into the distance, narrowing his eyes when he noticed a distinct shape buried beneath the sands. 

“Havve!” he exclaimed.

The bulky frame of the robot’s ship was nestled in a mound of orange sand, the green engine still sizzling despite its face down position. The ship was swaying back and forth as it tried to loosen itself from the earth, a sharp gash trailing behind the buried carrier. Strive took a step forward, only to hesitate when he saw how steep the sand hill was. While he was certainly in a rush, he’d much prefer to keep the pesky sands to a minimum. 

Strive gave a delighted gasp, a brilliant idea jumping into his mind. He called out his photon shield, positioning the transparent device on the sands in front of him. He kept his wrist low to the ground and tilted his shield forwards, sailing off the edge with an enthusiastic shout. A bout of laughter purified his momentary worries as he flew across the heated grains, his impromptu sled gliding through the air whenever he slid across an incline of sand. He giggled joyously, his hair twirling through the winds without any restraint. 

His shield would kick up a trail of dust from behind, the amount he produced increasing the faster his descent got. Havve’s ship was beginning to get closer, the familiar drumming becoming increasingly louder as he advanced down the hill. Strive tried to judge the distance, a panicked gasp escaping him once he realized he was in direct line with the object. If he didn’t act fast, he was going to collide face first into the sturdy vessel.

He grimaced and tilted his shield upwards, leaning his body backwards in order to act as a counter force for his speeds. He tittered precariously, remaining mindful of where he was putting his weight so he didn't topple off the back. He gripped the edge of the shield with his free hand, silently praying for the ride to be over once the ship filled his entire vision. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

The sands slowly parted beneath his shield, hissing quietly as his momentum came to a gradual stop. Strive fell forwards onto his shield, his nose nearly grazing the exterior of Havve’s ship. He let out a loud sigh, his core flashing in time with his thudding chest. Had he stopped himself any later, he would have been the robot's newest decoration.

Strive retracted his shield and quickly stood up, dragging his eyes across the submerged ship. He jumped away when the vessel gave one final tug, its front end managing to dislodge itself from the coarse material. Shimmer sands cascaded down the vessel like an orange waterfall, a cloud of dust kicking up in response. He blinked as the particles scratched his vision, the unpleasant sensation causing his eyes to tear up. He rubbed his eyes with an annoyed hiss, his sensitive ears twitching upwards when he heard the ship open up.

Havve’s metallic legs carried him down the walkway, his snappy gait seeming much more lively than it had ever been. The robot ran to Strive, his ruby orbs trained on the boy with an intense light. He seemed incredibly worried about his young companion, his head tilting back and forth as he carefully surveyed him. The robot crouched down to Strive’s height, his graspers working frantically as they observed every part of his form, these actions ranging from poking at his arms to brushing dust from his downy hair. 

Strive chuckled at the kind gesture, patting the robot’s grasper with a few friendly taps. He pushed away his companion’s gentle nudges. “I’m fine, Havve. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

The robot narrowed his gaze and looked his companion up and down, seeming to question the events from earlier. As if to make a point, Havve turned his head to his ship, his eyes trained specifically on the expanding crack that travelled across his windshield. Strive’s ears lowered in embarrassment, knowing full well that he was the one who caused such a blemish. Thankfully, Havve didn’t seem angry by it. Instead, he seemed incredibly concerned. 

“I’m fine, really. Something went wrong in the perennial bridge, but . . . we’re out of there now, so that’s all that matters. I—thank you for saving me. I’m sorry about your window.” 

Havve flicked one of his graspers with a dismissive wave. He didn’t care in the slightest. All that mattered was that his young companion was safe. The robot turned his head to the rolling hills, his glowing gaze observing the vast, empty fields. Strive followed the indent that Havve’s ship left in the sands, the streak looking as if it appeared out of nowhere. He brought his eyes to the blank skies, finding nothing that would indicate they had crashed through a portal. The perennial bridge seemed to have disappeared, leaving the two of them stranded in an unknown land. 

Strive hummed nervously, tapping his arms as he fidgeted with unease. He felt a small sting react to his touch, reminding him of the self inflicted gashes beneath his sleeves—Havve definitely didn't need to know about those. Hopefully his wounds will heal quickly since his vessel was in his core, but strange things had plagued the white beast on this planet. All he could do was remain optimistic that his vessel was still looking out for him during its uncharacteristic sulk.

Pushing these thoughts to the side, he turned to Havve with new interest, observing the silent being curiously. “You spoke to me, didn’t you? Back in the Bridge, I thought I heard you talking to me.”

Havve said nothing, a series of incoherent whirrs overtaking him as he stood to his full height. The metal being uttered no words, simply dragging his scarlet eyes over Strive’s form. The boy could hear the tumultuous rumbles in the robot’s chest when he reacted to his question, his sporadic interior betraying his stoic facade. Then, Havve locked eyes with Strive, slowly moving his head back and forth with a firm reply. 

The robot claimed innocence. Had he remembered it wrong?

“But I heard—wait, no. We can discuss this later. Or not, depending on if you’re even willing to initiate a sentence like you did before.” Strive ignored the pointed glare his companion produced. He looked across the hill he had travelled down, humming about what lay beyond the towering dunes. “If you and I landed beside each other, then the rest of the crew can’t be that far away. Has anyone been trying to contact you?”

The robot shook his head, setting his jaw askew in annoyance. Strive tapped his Lexicomm in an attempt to establish a connection, only to wince when a horrid screech pierced his hearing. It would seem that the perennial bridge had scrambled their communication for the time being. It would probably take some time for their technology to recover from the powerful gateway.

“What about Sung? If he’s nearby then the two of you can find each other, yeah?”

Havve nodded, tuning his body in the direction of his ship. Now that Strive had been located safe and sound, the robot was keen on finding the rest of his crew. Strive watched as Havve began boarding his ship, his sky blue palms reaching for his vessel out of habit. His chest plummeted when he remembered how difficult his vessel was being, the strange beast refusing to materialized from his core. 

Strive’s arm shot forwards in panic. “Wait!” he called, “I need to travel with you for a bit.” The robot stopped in his tracks, tilting his head with a silent question. Strive grimaced, a low growl escaping him. “My vessel, it won’t appear. I think that crooked Bridge had something to do with it.”

The robot narrowed his eyes, seeming irritated by the lack of mention on Strive’s part. He peered at the boy, then to his core. He observed the azure glow with immense interest, his vision sharp as he tried to deduce any anomalies. Strive felt diffident under his intense gaze, covering his core and sinking beneath his glare. 

“I’m fine, Havve. It probably has something to do with our jump. Your ship is acting funny too, right? My vessel must’ve reacted a little differently, is all. It’ll go back to normal soon, I promise.”

Havve didn’t seem pleased with this explanation, but he accepted that they were currently on a tight schedule. He motioned for Strive to follow, coaxing him into the mysterious abode. Strive felt his core light up in excitement, eager to discover the environment his mechanical companion resided in. He bounded up the stairs, quickly passing his teammate with a lively bounce in his steps. 

As Strive studied the new interior, the first thing that stuck out to him was the bizarre control panel near the front. He approached the odd gadgets, taking in their strangely round appearance. The controls were separated by different sized slates, each one battered and beaten as they wrapped beneath the viewing window—unfortunately, the crack across the glass was much more noticeable on the inside. Without any defining buttons, he was at a loss as to how the robot piloted his ship. 

“What are all these?” he questioned, pointing towards the strange objects with a baffled expression. Feeling curious, he raised his hand above the slate as the need to strike it began to grow. Havve saw what he was doing and quickly jumped into action, hastily redirecting his hand away from the controls. Strive jumped back with a start, a small blush spreading across his face. Perhaps he should ask before touching anything else.

To answer his question, Havve motioned for Strive to follow his multiple arms. The robot took a seat in his chair, motioning for Strive to sit near the side—there was a small chair off in the corner, the wooden structure dusty from a clear lack of use. He must not have many visitors to prompt proper maintenance. Strive followed the robot’s directions and sat on the chair, watching carefully as Havve demonstrated his ship’s unique quirks. 

Raising his arms, the robot twisted two of his graspers towards the panel and revealed a pair of thin, sturdy sticks in his grasp. He twirled the objects into the air with ostentatious flair, catching the sticks with ease; his ruby orbs were narrowed in a playful sneer. After flaunting his tricks, Havve brought the batons to the surface of the control table and summoned a thunderous clamour beneath the impact, his strikes seeming planned and perfectly executed. 

Strive’s ears flinched at the harsh noise, the cacophonous reveal catching him off guard. As Havve continued drumming the panels, Strive began to notice a familiar pattern. Willing himself to develop a tolerance to the sound, he followed the tempo, realizing quickly dawning on him the longer he listened to the distinct beat. “This is how you power your ship!”

Havve nodded, continuing his drumming as the ship shifted beneath their feet, the vessel lifting into the air in response to the energetic power source. If Havve wanted to go left and right, he’d drum near the sides. If he wanted to go up, he’d hit the bigger drum. Down was the smaller panel. Strive watched the artificial being continue without any falter to his movements, amazed by the control and dexterity the robot possessed. 

He thought back to their first meeting and how the ominous drums had been a source of terrible fear. Now that he had gotten closer to the robot and understood his methods, he found great comfort in the distinct tempo, a sense of security washing over him whenever the drumming began. He felt safe, reassured by his companion’s unusual cadence. Strive leaned back in his chair, letting the upbeat rhythm wash over him while they soared above the desolate lands.

He watched the orange sands sway beneath the ship, their swooping dunes mimicking the movement of dusty waves. Once and awhile, Strive would observe the luminescent rocks that littered the terrain, their stark white exteriors illuminating the lands with the light the bleak skies lacked. The contrast was quite striking to see, the difference accentuating the stones’ odd, face-like shapes even more. Such strange rocks they were, their uncanny resemblance managing to fool his eyes more times than he cared to admit. 

Taking a break from the window, he decided to focus on Havve’s stoic expression. The robot seemed deep in thought, his movement functioning on automatic commands while his electric mind wandered elsewhere. He’d curve the ship to the side, only to bring it back to the original path when he seemed displeased with the results. His scarlet eyes would flicker back and forth across the sands, his orbs narrowing in time with a silent annoyance. Judging by his wavering motions, Strive assumed that Sung was trying to direct him through the desert by means of their mysterious connection.

“Ask Sung if everyone is okay," he requested. "Hopefully they’re all in one place and not wandering around the planet after the jump.”

Havve paused, then nodded in response. He used one of his free graspers to flash a quick thumbs-up, confirming that everyone was waiting in a single spot, their individual health intact as well. Strive let out a relieved sigh, thankful that his companions were in one piece. It would seem none of them suffered the same damage as his vessel, save for the momentary lack of communication. Perhaps that was one of the effects the perennial bridges had on normal ships. Thinking back, he recalled the deteriorating condition of Sung’s call when they flew through the gateway, the same thing most likely happening to everyone else. 

Strive groaned inwardly, certain that he would receive yet another earful once he met up with the rest of the crew. He was beginning to grow tired of the constant worrying that was directed his way, feeling helpless to prevent it. He could act as brave and courageous as he wanted, but that didn’t solve the mishaps he often found himself in. He desperately hoped his story would redeem itself near their final battle. Holding the role of the young, naïve traveller was starting to gnaw at his patience.

He swayed his legs while he sat on the chair, their position shifting yet again as Havve tried to locate their companions. “There’s got to be a better way to find them. What about tethering?”

The robot shook his head to the side, seeming quite annoyed with their failing technology. Their connections were momentarily severed after their jump. Neither of the crew members foresaw this outcome, their expectation of the perennial bridge having been severely miscalculated. No communication, no tethering, a malfunctioning vessel—if Strive hadn’t located the robot, he’d be in a world trouble. 

For now, the duo had to rely on Sung’s obscure, telepathic hints, his misguided directions often sending Havve in a dizzying spiral. The robot was being fed instructions without much substance, each new bout of information the same as the last. Follow the sand dunes, look for the white rocks, look for the stone with a face on it—everything on this planet was virtually identical! If not one part of the desert, then certainly another zone had the exact same qualities as the rest!

“Stars, we can’t keep going like this!" said Strive. His patience was beginning to thin, more so than usual. He felt a dull pain in his core, a nuisance reaction to his sudden agitation. "Can’t they just fly around and try to meet up?”

Havve paused, proposing the idea to his partner in the undisclosed distance, shaking his head when he received a response. No, they all had to stay in one spot. Since no one could locate each other, getting separated would spell even more trouble. Their best bet was to stay in one place until they could get everything resolved. 

While it made sense, Strive was not too pleased. Their current way of locating the team was tedious, misguided, and terribly annoying. After staring at the same orange sands and humanistic rocks for the majority of their flight, he felt like he was going crazy. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of these unwanted negative thoughts—he couldn’t seem to shake them, a persistent sizzle burning within his core. Perhaps it was the stress of the mission that was beginning to weigh him down, the constant demands whittling his emotions to a restless point. Whatever it may be, he was not the biggest fan of it.

In an attempt to settle his mind, Strive heaved a controlled sigh, focusing on his breathing as he emulated the techniques he had seen Phobos use. He kept his posture straight and breathed deeply, exhaling with a concentrated release. He’d been told that this was one of the ways the rocketeer relaxed during his travels, choosing a meditative style as his preferred way of unwinding. While he had yet to practice the strange method himself, he had to admit that his novice attempt did help him clear his mind. 

With his breathing in check, he let his eyes wander around the green carrier, noticing how plain the ship was in comparison to his other teammates. Unlike his living companions, the robot had no need for frivolous accessories or obscure knick-knacks like their leader. Instead, the back of his ship held numerous marked boxes, their unknown scribbles seeming to resonate with whatever language Havve originally functioned on. Observing the symbols, Strive made the educated guess that this was where the crew’s food was being stored during their travels, an ice-like marking indicating that these supplies were meant to stay cold.

Logically, it made sense that Havve was the food’s designated keeper. An artificial being like himself was immune to the temptations of untimely snacking, saving the crew the annoyance of misplaced meals and half nibbled desserts. 

Since they weren’t flying that fast, Strive slowly edged from his chair, casting a sideways glance towards the pilot as he silently asked for permission. Havve looked over but didn’t protest, simply bobbing his head before returning his attention to Sung’s internal, misguided drawl. With the robot’s blessing, he made his way to the back of the hull.

Having never seen the inside of the ship, Strive was amazed by the amount of supplies Havve stored inside his vessel. Crates of various substances were piled near the back, the most recent box sporting an open lid. Feeling curious, he peered into the crate and immediately noticed the chilling breeze that flowed from it. The box contained different types of vegetables, legumes, and foreign ingredients that were used in most of their dishes. He felt himself breathe a cool sigh of relief when he noticed the lack of meat products; they must have been separated for Meouch’s particular palate. 

His search became rather mundane once he looked over all the neatly stacked crates, their identical appearances offering nothing but boredom. With nothing else to see, he began walking back to his chair so he could assist Havve in the infuriating search. On his way back, something strange caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the obscured container. 

Much smaller than the rest of the crates, the modest box sat on a makeshift shelf behind the surrounding supplies, its existence nearly hidden from the outside world. The only reason he had found it was due to the small break in the boxes’ formation. That, and the fact that he could read the delicate words written across the exterior. Strive’s eyes widened at the sight, his core engulfing itself in a fierce bout of azure light. 

He approached the massive crates, peering through the cracks as he read the words over and over again, an anxious compulsion forcing him to repeat the same lines without the sensation of relief. It didn’t appear to be any kind of advanced technology that allowed him to decipher the text; it was clearly drawn by hand. But why? And by whom? 

He read the text once more, an odd pang resonating in his core. The words were short, simply reading: 

_For my Starlight_

Strive wobbled, sucking in a hasty gasp as his lungs resumed their function; he hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath until now. So many questions flew through his mind, their breakneck speeds threatening to give him whiplash. He was light years away from his planet, so why was this box written in his language? Why was it hidden on Havve’s ship? More importantly, what was inside?

Why did he feel like crying?

He stretched his arm between the small crevice, straining as he tried to brush against the mysterious box. Due to the sheer size and weight of the supply crates, he was unable to push a path for himself. The boxes proved to be an impenetrable fortress, one that Strive could not infiltrate by himself. He looked up, noticing how tight the formation was stacked; it would be impossible for him to climb above the crates. Looking at the careful placement, it was almost as if no one was meant to find it in the first place.

His core gave a dull throb, the azure light momentarily losing its shine as an ache seared behind his vision. Strive grimaced in discomfort, stepping away from the crates in an attempt to steady himself. He was beginning to get fed up with all these headaches, each one spelling trouble whenever they decided to make an untimely appearance. He had so much on his mind right now—couldn’t this pesky nuisance wait a little longer?

Feeling unsteady, he decided it was best if he took a seat for the time being. Of course, he still had a lot of questions he wanted to ask Havve, but they would have to wait until he could make a coherent sentence. The pain was starting to worsen with each passing second, muddling his thoughts with an unwelcomed, hideous drone. He winced, pressing his fingers to his temple and begging for the aching to cease. 

These pains were familiar, comparable to that of—

He shot up in his chair, his core filling the entire vessel with an intense glare. Havve looked over in surprise, watching his young companion become riddled with fretful trembles. The boy seemed irate, his underlying terror countered by a burning hatred, his emotions fuelled by the numerous encounters he had endured during his short life. 

Apparently Havve didn’t notice it yet, but Strive sure did. He yelled for Havve’s attention, pointing frantically towards the open black skies. For a few seconds, nothing came into view. Then, a sickly green current rocketed through the abyss, the galvanizing beam narrowly missing the edge of Havve’s wing. Strive watched in horror as one green dot turned into two, followed by the appearance of four more. 

The jagged beasts hid behind the blank skies’ veil, zipping through the air with blinding speeds as they scattered themselves around the ship. One by one, the Void ships readied their weapons, their jade eyes narrowing in preparation for their strike. Strive dug his nails into his chair as Havve fled through the open air, narrowly avoiding the combined blast of the scavengers. 

The entire ship rolled into a dizzying spiral, nearly sending Strive into a hopeless tumble. Thankfully, the boxes in the back were ridiculously secured to the ground below, preventing them from jostling about the interior and harming any passengers. 

This also included the mysterious little box with delicate writing, its resting place left undisturbed as the unlikely duo catapulted themselves through the Void ships’ demonic clutches.

**So many illustrations—we've been spoiled! My heart can hardly contain its love for all this incredible work! Bless, I'm grinning like a fool :'^)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making up for my little absence, here's an extra long chapter! Moving went well and I am extremely sore as a result—I was able to sneak in a few lines in between pain meds, haha. Aside from that, I just need to get myself settled in the new environment! Exciting stuff, I tell you.
> 
> Speaking of exciting stuff: have you guys seen TWRP's new album? 'Over the Top' looks like it'll be amazing! 'Only the Best' is already available to listen to—it's such a good, wholesome song! Remember to thank the parental figures in your lives. Perhaps you can all listen to the song together. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Hope you're liking what I'm putting out. Cheers! :^)


	19. The Edge of Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Havve and Strive find themselves in the midst of a Void ship ambush, their every move watched with calculating glares. Their flight is treacherous, but valiant victory looms in the distance. However, even after the battle is fought a silent war still wages within Strive's chest, threatening to pull the persistent facade down once and for all. 
> 
> Darkness resides in everyone, more so than the rest. A tipping point can be a catastrophic thing, one that can throw a being's life into absolute chaos.

Strive flinched when the explosion rattled their ship, the aftershocks shaking the entire vessel as it sped through the skies. He dug his nails into his chair and held on like his life depended on it. His vision spun when Havve made another series of hasty movements, his ship careening to the side and narrowly avoiding another incoming beam.

The scavengers were hot on their trail, jade eyes trained on the bulky ship as it fled their hellish ambush. Bayldonite lines filled the skies in unison, each laser managing to miss their target by a few measurements. Despite their failures, the ships quickly recharged in preparation for another onslaught of attacks. 

Strive listened to the frantic drumming that dominated the hull, watching his robotic companion strike the controls at a blinding pace. Each of Havve’s arms were preoccupied with a set of controls, four of them concentrating on piloting the ship while the other two fiddled with the remaining slates, carefully selecting the most appropriate device to use. The robot produced another set of batons, foregoing a frivolous twirl in favour of slamming the sticks downwards, an ominous tempo swiftly thundering through the hull’s interior.

Outside the viewing window, a green light crawled near the sides. Strive gasped, recognizing the particular hue. Unlike the venomous green the Void ships produced, Havve’s weapons were much more lively. The cannons gave a powerful shriek, firing a monumental blast in the direction of a lone scavenger. Unable to predict this counter, the Void ship took the blast head on, exploding into a noxious, sulphuric cloud.

With no time to celebrate, Havve flew through the shattered remains of the scavenger, his attack causing the surviving vessels to quicken their pursuit. Strive watched the remaining three scavengers through the monitor, their chilling gaze set upon the backside of Havve’s ship. He watched their apertures narrow in preparation for another assault, an electric current jumping through their pupils.

“Drop down!” yelled Strive.

Havve complied and forced his ship into a hasty dive. Their sudden descent kicked up a cloud of rusty sands, enveloping the carrier in a sheet of dust. The robot narrowed his eyes in irritation, summoning a quick swipe from his window wipers. Now that they were so close to the ground, Strive looked up from the viewing window and watched the beasts plummet to the same level, charging their beams without a moment to lose.

The ship weaved back and forth across the terrain in a fruitless attempt to lose their assailants. Unlike Strive’s vessel, Havve’s ship was built for brute force, not limber acrobatics. It was impractical for a ship this size to rely on trickery—what they needed was strength. The robot shifted between the white rocks of the planet, narrowly avoiding skimming the edge of his wings. Havve looked at his monitor, his jaw hitched in frustration. 

Three Void ships quickly turned into five.

“Stars, they’re calling more! We have to get rid of the rest before they bring anymore attention to our position!” Strive’s eyes darted across the ship’s interior, each of the different controls looking much too complex for him to operate. Not only that, but he had never used a ship’s weapon system in the first place. Since he lacked any artillery on his vessel, he was severely under prepared for aerial combat. 

He watched Havve slave over the panel, his arms reduced to an agitated blur. The robot turned his head to him, silently urging for him to take hold of his chair. It was easy to understand his warning even without words. Strive clawed down on his chair as the ship spiralled into a lightning fast u-turn, the engines giving an audible 'pop' once they snapped into a reversed position. He gasped when they came face-to-face with the enemy, their ship streaming through the skies on backwards thrusters. 

Havve sneered at the beasts and sent another series of blasts in their direction. Unfortunately for the duo, the Void ships were well aware of his attack patterns. The scavengers quickly zipped out of the way, leaving the beam to dissolve hopelessly in the distance. The robot’s shoulders sank, his arms working quicker in order to recover from the setback.

Another few rounds flew from his cannons, this time flying way over the scavenger’s positions. The Void ships dragged their eyes across the failed missiles. They stuttered mid-flight, turning back as if to laugh at the miscalculation. Their vision narrowed in a mocking manor, an insulting green building up in their pupils. They began charging another attack, engulfing Havve's viewing window in their malicious glow.

Strive blinked harshly, an unpleasant sting slowly seeping into his core. Too much green—that’s all he could see.

Despite the apparent failure, Havve’s jaw was set upwards, a playful shriek sounding from his metallic visage. Strive regained his focus and looked at the robot incredulously, briefly wondering if artificial beings could suffer from madness as well. As if listening to his thoughts, Havve flicked his ruby gaze downwards, tilting his head towards the unexpected show in front of them. 

Two of the Void ships exploded in a flash of chartreuse flames, the aftershock spreading to one of the neighbouring ships, claiming it within wicked embers, and sending it crashing to the sands below. The remaining duo ceased their attack, frozen in place by the unforeseen assault. Their critical gaze scanned the blank skies, hastily searching for the source of the attack.

Havve clicked his jaw together and emulated a kind of crooked laugh, his eyes ablaze with delight. The missiles he had fired were meant to miss their targets, encouraging the enemy to let their guards down. This allowed him to conduct a sneak attack when he fired a round of tracking missiles in the background. Their instructions were coded to narrow in on ships without a signal—this was specifically manufactured for tearing apart Void ships, a task the robot derived great pleasure from. 

Overwhelmed by trigger-happy lust, he struck the control panel relentlessly, sending showers of blasts towards their pursuers. The Void ships darted out of the way in an attempt to avoid the beams, quickly fleeing into the cover of the desolate skies. 

The robot fired without hesitation, lighting up the sky with a barrage of emerald blasts. The tracking missiles soared through the air and narrowed in on their targets, dutifully following the scavengers’ movements despite their tricky camouflage. Hidden behind the dark veil, the Void ships careened through the abyss with a jade streak, their pupils narrowing as they fired a counter attack of their own. The opposing weapons collided. Havve’s missiles shattered midair, their assault cut short once the scavengers learned of their movements. 

Strive growled when he saw how quickly the creatures adapted to their surroundings. Their minds were incredibly sharp, calculating more possibilities than either himself or Havve could think in response. 

The high speed chase continued across the barren lands, the duo’s momentary advantage having been snuffed out the longer time dragged on. The Void ships were able to counter the missiles with blasts of their own, easily intercepting each new attack, heckling the Brigadiers in the process. While there was only two scavengers to deal with, they proved to be a difficult force to beat. Strive came to understand why the team loathed these beasts in battle—they were observant creatures, taking each new hit as a learning experience for them to overcome. If they weren’t dealt with on the first encounter, it was possible to die at the hands of their infuriating intelligence. 

Time was running out. If they stalled their battle any longer, reinforcements would soon overwhelm them. There was no telling how many beasts were residing on this planet. If they encountered an entire fleet, Strive was confident that he and his companion would meet a swift demise. They were nearing the end of their artillery, nearly every option exhausted by this point. What else could they do?

Strive watched the monitor, hissing with displeasure when the ships prepare yet another attack—they never seemed to grow tired. They were parasitic nightmares, clinging to their trail like their pitiful lives depended on it. The scavengers seemed hungry, starved for some unknown source; their desperation was beyond comprehension. Strive winced when a dull throb claimed his mind, forcing his palms to ball into trembling fists. He shook his head back and forth when a haunting drawl invaded his mind, their voiceless moans causing his stomach to twist.

_Forwards. Smite the enemy. Enemy. Enemies. Two of them. Forwards. Evade. Strike. They are weak. Weak. Vulnerable._

Havve careened the ship to the side and dodged an incoming blast. 

Strive steadied himself in an attempt to block out the voices, but the force was too great. He was helpless beneath the Void ships’ taunts. Their poisonous words darkened his thoughts without remorse, gradually dragging him into their desperate mindset. He listened to their mundane howls, their confusing drones washing over him like chaotic tides.

_Forwards. Claim again. Reclaim what once was lost. Smite the enemy. Destroy the metal being. Reclaim what once was ours. Reclaim the Starling. Starling. Oh, little Starling._

__

Strive froze. His core throbbed painfully as icy dread grasped his soul. There it was again—he had been called that name before. He remembered the lone ship he and Phobos defeated, its dying breath refusing to leave his memoires. No longer malicious, the Void ship parted with a feathery embrace, its words directed specifically towards him, similar to an act of comfort. Its message felt strangely personal, almost like he was the sole being who could understand the cryptic message.

Even now, the pursuing ships had begun their drawl with cruel intentions, yet their final words were velvety soft, a gentle whisper among the dark haze. Strive was torn on what he should gain from these declarations. It was like a battle was playing out in his mind, each opposing side pulling him into the shadows whilst simultaneously dragging him towards the surface. 

He wasn’t sure what any of it meant, nor could he control the withering howls that seeped into his mind.

Soft coos were quickly sliced by hollow laughter, a venomous sneer breaking through the charge of the enemy's weapons. By this point, Havve had grown restless, his senses overwhelmed by the need to fire his weapons. The robot was drumming like a wild animal, shooting missiles for the sake of aimless violence. Although he was an artificial being, it was hard to miss the exhausted posture he was emulating, his shoulders slumped and sagged, a weary slouch crawling across his neck. He looked frustrated, fed up with their one-sided chase. 

The Void ships easily avoided each blast, just like Strive had heard them discuss. They also rushed forwards, keeping their position set in a single direction—just as they had gloated before. 

Their garrulousness gave him a brilliant idea.

“Stop your attack! I’ve got a plan.” Strive balanced himself on the edge of Havve’s chair, frantically tapping against his metallic centre. The robot jostled his head towards his companion, his eyes wide and flashing incredulously. He was supposed to cease fire? At a time like this? The robot’s graspers hovered over the drums, visibility trembling as his primal functions were overridden by the boy’s orders. Whether he liked it or not, Strive’s demands were absolute—Havve dropped his arms and listened dutifully to the Moebian. 

“The scavengers are dead set on travelling in a single direction right now. If we catch them off guard, you may be able to fire a successful attack, one they won’t see coming.” Strive’s eyes glimmered with renewed moxie as he explained the plan to his companion, feeling well in his element as he took on the role of strategist. He was pleased with how easy it was for him to imagine the possible outcomes, a vivid image materializing in his mind in regards to their success. While he was incapable of firing a weapon, that certainly didn't stop him from devising the perfect combat strategy, one his companion would perform with ease.

Strive braced himself when Havve veered out of the way of an incoming missile, the assault momentarily setting him off track. He shook his head and forced himself to conclude his thoughts. “They don’t think we’re capable of another attack. They’ve gotten cocky.”

The robot tilted his head in disbelief, wondering where these facts were coming from. For all they knew, the scavengers were incapable of such complex thoughts, let alone possessing the capability to taunt their targets. 

Strive clicked his tongue and reluctantly explained his mysterious lead. “I’m guessing that you can’t hear them—no one ever seems to—but trust me when I say they have a voice. They’ve been talking to me this entire time. Well, maybe it’s not intentional, but I can definitely hear them. I’ve been listening to their plans too.” 

Havve’s eyes dilated in shock, a sight Strive had yet to see from him. Judging by the reaction, this certainly wasn’t a normal occurrence, nor was it ever heard of. Sung had been surprised too, seeming doubtful of his inexplicable connection; it would seem this key discovery had yet to be shared with the robot. Regardless if they believed him or not, he was determined to use this information in their favour. They had so much to accomplish in their mission. An early death was not something they could afford. 

“Look, I know it’s strange, but we don’t have time to think about it! Trust me, there’s a lot on my mind right now and I can’t even address it yet.” Images of the mysterious box flashed in his mind, followed by the crooning voices of the Void ships—he swallowed his desire to know more, forcing himself to focus on their current dilemma. “I’m telling you this information because I know it’ll help us get out of this mess. I’ve given you the plan and now it’s your job to follow my orders. Is that understood, Havve?”

Havve's gaze lingered before offering a compliant nod, bringing his full attention back to the control panel so he could faithfully follow each step of Strive’s plan. Knowing what was to come, Strive threw himself to the edge of Havve’s chair, his stomach flipping uncomfortably when the ship quickly spun forwards, tilting its front end upwards and hanging a loop above their attackers. 

He clutched the chair with quivering arms, a smug smile crossing his features when he heard the confused jabber of the scavengers. They definitely hadn’t anticipated a shift in pace, nor had they imagined a direct attack from behind.

Havve cleared the arc with his sturdy vessel, charging towards the scavengers with guns ablazing. He let loose a flurry of missiles, each one trained for the beasts’ jagged backsides. Strive watched their hideous sockets widen in response, their exteriors shattering in a malachite blast. Havve’s vessel soared through the onyx remains, relishing in the satisfying clang of shards against the exterior. 

A joyous cry escaped Strive as he bounced through the hull, shaking the robot with glee in celebration of their victory. “Nice going, Havve! Stars, that was perfect!” 

Chittering whirrs resonated from Havve’s body once elation took hold, the robot breaking his position in order to lift his companion into the air. Strive yelped in surprise when he was placed onto the robot’s clamorous shoulders, holding on for dear life as the two of them bobbed through the hull like a pair of excited children. He felt laughter rise to his chest and let positive emotions wash over his core, his feelings happily mimicked by his artificial teammate. The duo chattered with a mix of shouts and mechanical clicks, replaying their victory through over the top narration.

“When the cannons fired, those scavengers had no chance! And when the ship did a u-turn, it was like— _whoosh!_ ” 

Strive held his arms outwards, leaning his body to the side in order to emulate Havve’s ship. The robot fuelled his imagination, curving to the side and swooping through the hull. With each new twist Strive produced, his companion would comply with his movements, faithfully mirroring the actions of the ship they piloted. 

“—we were flying backwards and dodging all their attacks!” 

Havve turned his centre the wrong way, running across the interior with a reversed stride. Strive giggled happily, swaying his arms through the air while he and his companion navigated their imaginations in the opposite direction. 

“—then we soared through the skies like— _vrrooosh! Shwooo!_ Incredible!”

Strive’s cloak billowed behind him while they tumbled around the interior, weaving through the control panel and the surrounding boxes in the rear. He bowed his arms down and guided Havve into a crouched position, tossing his hands to the sky and encouraging the robot to leap into the air, the action sending him into a fit of joyous guffaws. Tittering taps filled the hull once Havve joined in on the laughter, his metallic jaw clicking against itself, his circuits overtaken by merriment.

The destruction of a few Void ships was never celebrated in such a manner, but it felt like a treasured experience with Strive by his side. Havve couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to let loose like this; it had been a while since he felt pleasant warmth cradle his centre. After all the hardships he had endured, perhaps he was finally on his way to recovery. He could thank his curious little companion for the improvement. 

After a few additional bouts of laughter, the duo was able to regain their senses, their childish excitement managing to subside for the time being. Havve gently lifted his companion off his shoulders and placed him back on the ground. Begrudgingly, he returned to the battered control panel. Without the threat of an attack, the robot was able to calm his frantic drumming, settling into an acceptable pace while he guided the ship forward, bringing his attention back to the important task of locating the others. 

Strive returned to his chair and watched over the mundane terrain. Just like before, the lands were plagued with an infuriating sameness, each new section looking identical to the last. In spite of this boring flight, there was one element that kept him on his toes; he was remaining vigilant for any surprise attacks. It was entirely possible that they could run into another group of Void ships, potentially succumbing to their tricky ways if given the chance to overwhelm them. Luckily for the duo, their flight remained undisturbed as they drifted through the skies, everything seeming peaceful for the time being. 

Unfortunately, Havve’s ship was still suffering from a few minor inconveniences, some of which included the ship’s tracking capabilities. It was clear that his sensors weren’t working properly if the scavengers had managed to get the jump on them. Without these vital indicators, their flight was plagued with persistent paranoia—or so they thought.

Strive took on the role of the living sensor, keeping his sensitive ears attuned for the shrill whines of approaching ships and honing in on his mysterious ability to detect their presence. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was thankful for this since it meant he could avoid the unpleasant headaches that came with their arrival. His core felt light and free, a telltale sign that nothing had a hold on him. 

Remaining vigilant, Strive let his gaze wander towards his mechanical teammate, watching his scarlet eyes flicker against the screen. “What’s Sung saying now?”

The robot shrugged his shoulders. He moved his head back and forth, squinting as he tried to establish their telepathic connection. Sung wasn’t answering.

“That’s odd. Why would he suddenly go quiet?” Strive saw Havve’s arms bend in a visual inflection, the strange choice leaving him clueless. “With how much he talks, I’m surprised he’s even capable of ending a conversation.”

Havve sneered humorously, keeping his gaze to the screen while his jaw chittered from the snarky comment. 

“Don’t tell him I said that," Strive sputtered quietly. He pursed his lips, fighting back the wobbly grin that slowly broke to the surface. “If we weren’t in the middle of this mess, I’d be glad for the peace and quiet. Unfortunately, now’s not the time. Have you tried connecting to the other ships again? Maybe things have started to clear up.”

The robot struck a few of his controls, looking up at the screen expectantly. The screen materialized onto the viewing window, yet the frame remained grey, an incoherent error message scrawled across the bottom. Strive sighed in disappointment. He tried to establish a connection through his Lexicomm, flinching when a harsh whine dominated his hearing; things were still on the fritz. With nothing else to do, he let his mind wander between the tiresome task of sensing scavengers and addressing his hidden concerns. 

That box on the ship—what purpose did it serve? 

He already knew it was impossible for him to reach on his own. The weight of the boxes were much too heavy for him to move, plus they were practically glued into position, preventing any unplanned moments from occurring. Perhaps he could ask Havve to move the crates for him, but would the robot comply? Even though he listened to everything he said, were there some things he wouldn’t do? The supplies were purposely arranged to hide that small box, leading Strive to believe that nobody was allowed the know its secrets, no one but the artificial pilot. 

This left a bad taste in his mouth. Had it been a normal box, he would have quickly forgotten about it. It was the delicate writing that sent his core into a fit, the legible handwriting causing his emotions to stir painfully. There was no doubt about it—a Moebian had carved those words. But how? No one had ever left the stratosphere alive. There had never been any outsiders on their planet either. Its existence in the cosmos should be impossible. 

Strive felt his stomach knot in discomfort when his mind wandered further. He thought back to Sung and his suspicious ways, the unanswered questions he left in his wake, and the inexplicable guilt he carried in his heart. The man had made a big deal about trusting his teammates, claiming honesty was what their connection was built upon. With everything Strive had picked up on, his leader’s preaching sounded awfully condescending when he wasn’t truthful himself.

He cast his gaze towards Havve; he wasn’t completely honest either. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely his choice. Bound to the doctor’s orders, it was possible that the robot didn’t have a real say in what went on behind the scenes—the mute beast was being muzzled by an invisible command. 

Strive thought back to Phobos and Meouch, replaying all of their eccentric movements, tones, and the way they carried themselves around him. They seemed much too carefree to be involved in any of these secrets—they were just as clueless as him, an oblivious curtain pulled across their vision while they blindly served their noble cause. For now, they were spared from his growing doubts.

With a heavy sigh, Strive leaned back in his chair as another convoluted thought crossed his mind. Out of all his teammates, why was he the only one that could hear the Void ships? More importantly, why did their words target him in particular? They spoke as if they knew him, their keen eyes trained on him no matter where they went. Their vicious charm, their venomous howls, their gentle whispers that reached out with a feathery softness . . . it was all so strange. 

Little Starling—what did it mean? Reclaim what once was ours; what had they lost? What did it have to do with him?

For my Starlight—who was that? Why did those words pierce his core like a dagger? It was painfully familiar, yet inaccessible in his mind. He felt a visceral reaction claw at his core, sending liquid torment into his chest. The answer was within his grasp, but it was obscured behind infuriating blockades, ones he could not bring himself to overcome. Was it hesitance that kept him from looking beyond?

At one point, an improbable thought chilled his soul. He forced himself to dismiss it at once, lest he face despair at the naive belief. Not only was it improbable, it was surely impossible. Although anything was possible in the cosmos, this hope was not one of them. He refused the wretched suggestion immediately.

So many questions, so little answers. 

With hazy eyes, he watched the rolling dunes beneath them. He noticed how Havve’s ship travelled without a shadow, the planet’s light source radiating from the curious rocks below. It looked as if the moon had exploded into a million pieces, shattering the luminescent remains into the carmine sands. Their surfaces were incredibly reflective, bouncing back the haunting glow in an infinite loop of light. Strive saw how Havve’s glow reacted to the rocks, their pristine white momentarily overtaken by a residual green hue. These changes could be seen for a few seconds before they faded, making way for their bone-like appearance. 

Lost in thought, the creeping hum of an approaching engine sent Strive’s ears upwards. He jumped in his chair, peering into the monitor while he hastily scanned the air. Havve noticed his sudden change immediately, his arms set in position as he prepared to strike at blinding speeds. Strive stopped his companion before he began, holding his palm in the air to cut him off. The noise wasn’t threatening.

“No, wait. It’s not a Void ship.” He listened again, his pointed ears fluttering when he picked up three distinct engines. He gasped, turning to Havve with wide eyes. “It’s the crew! Hang a quick left!”

Havve veered the ship to the side, blasting their engines into the unknown direction. It was hard to locate any distinct shapes against the dark skies, but the reflective stones gave away their position before they appeared in the air. Red, yellow and indigo lights shined against the stones as three familiar ships howled in the distance, their engines working especially hard as they yearned to reunite with the misplaced companions. 

Now that they were near each other, a sonorous chime rang across the monitor. Havve strummed his controls at once, opening the screen to three separate windows. While their forms were consumed with jittery static, there was no mistaking the men behind the chaos, each one of them lighting up the moment they laid eyes upon the duo.

“Holy shit! There ya're! I was beginin’ to think we’d be chasin’ our tails forever!” Meouch’s bellowing voice rumbled the entire carrier, easing some of the worries that lurked within Strive’s chest. He seemed to be in perfect condition. "We traced yer position by followin' one of Havve's missiles. The two of ya had us worried sick!

 _“Yes, I was worried as well.”_ Phobos nodded his head on the monitor, his red and gold helmet crackling fretfully against the damaged connection. _“I hadn’t anticipated a malfunction as troublesome as this. It’ll take me awhile to fix all of our circuits to a proper state.”_

“Work on my ship first, will ya?" piped Meouch. "I can hardly hear any of ya talk. It’s makin’ my ears bleed with how distorted everyone is.” 

Phobos beeped, a sneer evident in his pseudo-voice. “ _How about you start by cleaning the wax out of your ears. You could never hear us in the first place, idiot. Half the time I talk to you, I end up repeating myself. Would slower words help your comprehension, kitty?”_

“Alright, listen here ya jackass—”

Strive shook his head in disbelief as the two teammates shamelessly went for each other's throats, their argument reduced to a series of choppy lines and broken sentences across the intercom. Their bickering was the exact remedy he needed to sooth his anxieties, their trivial banter lulling his core into a comfortable state. He was incredibly thankful to be reunited with his crew, more so that everyone seemed unscathed by the stressful ordeal. 

Ignoring the rambling on the other line, Sung quickly muted their argument so he could address the duo without any interruptions. “Thank goodness you two are safe. One minute Havve and I are giving each other directions and the next thing I know, our connection was suddenly cut off. The last thing I heard was something about scavengers.”

Strive bobbed his head. “Yes, we were ambushed by a group of them. Havve’s sensors were still malfunctioning when we encountered them—it was a complete surprise when they jumped us.” He looked towards his artificial companion, huffing in amusement and nudging his tough exterior. “But we got them good, didn’t we? They didn’t stand a chance against us.”

Havve blinked, then offered a swift thumbs-up. He clicked his jaw together and lightly tapped Strive's arm in a good humour. 

“Stars alive, out of all the crew members you could've been stranded with, I’m glad it was Havve.” A nervous hum snuck into Sung's voice. “It’s just like I feared: the Void ships could be hiding anywhere on this planet. There’s no telling how many of them are waiting in the shadows. We need to land somewhere discreet for the time being, somewhere that will allow us to recover and repair our ships. Without our tools to survey the area, we’re vulnerable to whatever plan they have in store for us. We’ll have to remain incredibly vigilant until we can locate the next gateway.”

An uncomfortable chill crawled across Strive’s skin when he thought about the vile passage; he’d much rather avoid them at all costs. Unfortunately for him, their mission relied on them navigating the strange warp. They couldn’t afford to bypass such an important aspect to their success. Now that he knew what to expect—or not depending on the results of the next jump—he was hopeful that he could learn from his past errors. He wouldn’t let the Bridge overwhelm him a second time. 

“Strive, how are you feeling? The jump obviously took a toll on you.” Sung commented, his words laced with worry. “This isn’t something we can afford to ignore. Nor can we ignore the fact that the Void ships have been reaching out to you on multiple occasions.”

Strive's eyes when wide. “When did you—”

“Havve just told me.” The doctor nodded towards the robot. “He also told me that your vessel is malfunctioning. I’m assuming that’s the reason you’re riding with him, yeah?”

Strive nodded, feeling annoyed by how much the doctor already knew about his condition. It was infuriating how uneven their knowledge on each other was. It was very unfair in his eyes. The man seemed to know everything about him, yet he was never allowed to know anymore than what was permitted. Whenever he asked a question, his curiosity was deflected well beyond the subject matter.

Sung kept his expression stoic, seeming displeased with the situation. “Alright, that’s another thing we’ll look into when we land. Can you sense any Void ships right now?”

How did he—oh, right. He was getting fed information by the robot. Strive couldn’t help but glare at his metallic companion, his frustrations beginning to kindle within his core. 

“No, I can’t hear any. We should be safe for now,” he spoke behind gritted teeth.

“Good. I’ll let the two of you pick a nearby spot.” Sung pressed a button off screen, calling for the attention of his bickering crewmates. “Did you guys hear anything we discussed?” The two men ceased their fighting, looking sheepish underneath their leader’s gaze. “Oh, for the love of—we’re landing, got it? Follow Havve’s ship to the ground.”

Both Phobos and Meouch nodded frantically, crackling off the screen in order to avoid any more of their leader’s chastising words. Sung shook his head in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to understand their immature natures. For someone as intelligent as Phobos, it was a wonder that he was so inclined to bend to Meouch’s taunting jests. 

“We’ll talk tonight. See you guys in the sands.” With that, Sung’s image materialized off the monitor, leaving Strive alone with the lumbering husk beside him. 

He bit his lip in annoyance, a sizzling temper rising within his core. He was fed up with the secrets of the crew and the secrets he couldn’t even keep for himself. While he enjoyed Havve’s company, he found it difficult to brush off the robot’s blabbering behaviours. Due to this, he was forced to keep his curiosity under wraps for the time being, his interest in the mysterious box surely being relayed back to the doctor if he dare mention it. Something that important wouldn’t be left with any old crew member—he had a feeling that Sung entrusted it to his partner for a reason.

For what reason, he did not know. Much like everything else the two kept to themselves.

Havve must have noticed his oddly cold behaviour, looking over with a silent question. Strive dragged his eyes in the opposite direction, crossing his arms and keeping his words short. “Wouldn’t you like to know . . .”

Baffled by the sudden change, Havve brought his focus back to the act of finding a suitable landing point. The remainder of the descent was eerily quiet, much to the robot's displeasure. He had quite enjoyed his lively adventure with the boy, his circuits still buzzing from the joyous experience. Now, he felt a metaphorical pit in his stomach as the air turned sour, his mood dropping when his young companion took on a grumpy persona. Havve’s jaw hung lower than usual, his internal drumming seized by a squeezing discomfort. 

He had somehow upset the boy, but he couldn't figure out how. Regardless of the reason, it still pained him dearly. He was meant to look out for Strive, not cause him unnecessary gloom. With this terrible feeling implanted in his mind, Havve wandered the rest of the day with a heavy sensation in his chest, these feelings perfectly emulated from his past exposure to the emotion.

Having feelings was great, but certainly not now. He felt absolutly miserable.  


  
.  
  
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“What’s eatin’ ya, kid? Ya look terrible.”

Strive flinched when Meouch called out his sour mood, the feline having picked up on his annoyance the moment he sat down beside him. Perhaps it was his stiff posture or the permanent frown scrawled across his face that gave it away. Whatever the reason, he felt himself bristle against the abrasive observation. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine!” he barked, cringing internally when he realized how snappy the delivery was. He sighed, calming the fires within his chest. “I’m sorry, Meouch. That was rude of me. I’m not mad, I’m just,” he searched for a neutral word, “tired.”

“Hmm, I bet. Ya had one hell of a tumble through the gateway. I’d be pretty pissed too if I were in yer shoes.” Meouch took a swig of his drink and sat on the bone white rocks, his thin tail curling across the surface. 

The two of them sheltered beneath a towering rock formation, the cascading structure a perfect cover for their vessels. The team had nestled their ships underneath the rocky arch, seeking refuge in the event that they crossed paths with more scavengers. Thankfully, Strive couldn’t sense any of those beasts nearby. They seemed to have disappeared among the desolate wastelands, their first assault nothing more than an untimely annoyance. 

Speaking of annoyances; that all Strive could think about. He was still miffed by his thoughts and about how much his leader was purposely keeping from him. Things were never explained, secrets were kept from his grasp, he was somehow able to hear the thoughts of the Void ship—he hadn’t been lying in the slightest, he was dreadfully tired of all the mysteries. He just wanted a straight answer.

“Ya know, it’s alright to have some off days once and awhile. I’ve had my fair share of irritatin’ experiences. It’s bound to happen when yer’e travellin’ with this odd bunch.” The feline gestured to the entire clearing, including everyone in his gravelly speech. “It’s impossible to avoid rubbin’ someone the wrong way. We’ve all had our moments.”

Strive remained silent, carefully listening to Meouch’s oddly insightful words. He seemed to possess a keen eye for what was troubling him, his speech surprisingly close to the turmoil he found himself in. 

“I didn’t think any of you had fights," said Strive. "Well, besides you and Phobos. You all seem to get along quite well.”

“Bah, Phobos and I would never pass up an opportunity to go for each other’s throats—keeps it interestin’, ya know? That’s just how he and I roll. But I wouldn’t be honest if I said the rest of us never fought; couldn’t be farther from the truth, really.” Meouch hummed to himself quietly, dragging his eyes to a sulking husk beneath his ship. “I can tell that yer’e makin’ an effort to avoid Havve. I’ve never seen the guy so depressed.”

Strive gulped, a prickle of guilt tittering against his spine. He crossed his arms, an avoidant pout crossing his features. “He’s not sulking. He’s just powered down.”

“Nah, he’s definitely in the corner sulkin’. Just look at his eyes,” Meouch nodded his head in the robot’s direction, bringing attention to his dull, ruby gaze. “He’s thinkin’ about somethin’, probably tryin’ to figure out what he did to make ya so grumpy. He’s been known to do somethin’ similar when he pisses off Sung, but not to this degree. He’s taken a special likin’ to ya, kid. Whatever he did, he must be feelin’ all sorts of artificial awfulness.”

Strive said nothing, keeping his gaze trained to the ground.

“I’m not some jelly-spined pansy, mind ya," continued Meouch. "But it doesn’t take a genius to notice when yer teammate's feathers are ruffled in a knot. What’s on yer mind, kid? Anythin’ I can help ya with?”

Meouch's concern was touching. Strive felt himself loosen up a little, his worries slowly tumbling to the surface as he shared some of his burdens. “I feel like I don’t know anything. I’m not just talking about the cosmos as a whole, I’m talking about this crew. I don’t know anything about Havve or Sung, but they seem to know everything about me. It’s frustrating.”

The feline leaned back, snorting at the statement. “I hate to tell ya kid, but those two have always been a secretive bunch. I’ve learned to accept it and brush off their odd behaviours. Neither Phobos nor I know much about ‘em, either. Don’t take it personally, kid. They never share much about themselves to anyone.” 

“But why? Sung always talks about trusting each other and being honest, but how can he say that when he’s constantly breaking those rules? What am I supposed to take from that?”

“Kid, I’d trust the doctor with my life. Yer’e a young thing, so it’s possible that ya’ve never experienced somethin’ that needs to be kept under wraps. There are some things that folks don’t want to share, and sometimes ya just have to accept it. We’ve all got our secrets and for good reason too. Sometimes ya just can’t share that part about ya. It might be too embarrassin’, maybe even shameful—hell, it could be painful to even mention to another soul." Meouch seemed lost for a moment. He twiddled his paws without much thought, his index finger twitching involuntarily. He swiftly dismissed whatever he was thinking about, promptly clearing his throat. "The point is, everyone has their secrets. Ya need to respect their privacy.”

Strive kept his arms crossed while he listened to the feline’s words, feeling a sudden rush of nausea in his core. Everyone had their secrets, himself included. No one knew that his vessel was originally a Void ship. The thought of telling them this horrifying fact made him shiver. No, he couldn’t mention it. It was too insulting to share, specifically with Sung. How would the doctor view him if he knew he was harbouring a dangerous entity? 

Slowly, Strive began to understand where Meouch was going with his talk. He sighed, letting go of some of his frustrations. “You’ve got a point there. But I think it’s a little different, Meouch. I feel like they’re purposely keeping something from me. Many things, actually. I can never get a straight answer from them, only suspicious reactions. It’s like they're constantly dancing around me, keeping their steps careful and calculated so I won’t discover what they’re hiding.” He sighed pitifully. “What have I done wrong?”

“Kid, I’m sure ya’ve done nothin’ wrong. Correction, I’m absolutely positive that ya’ve done nothin’ wrong. There has to be a reason for their actions.” Meouch looked to the blank skies, exhaling a powerful gust of wind. “Sung’s a good guy, so is that rust bucket by his side. Everythin’ he’s ever done has always been with the crew’s best interest in mind. If he’s choosin’ to keep somethin’ from ya, then he must have a very good reason for it, but I can’t say what.”

The two crewmates sat beside each other without another word, leaving Meouch's speech to linger in the clearing.

Gradually, Strive’s bitterness began to dissipate, allowing him to push aside his clouded mind. He sat on the ground with a pondering slouch, his fingers tapping against his cheek as he searched for his next words.

“Do you think I should go talk to them?” he asked.

“I think ya should start with Havve first. Poor guy’s gonna malfunction he keeps pumpin’ himself full of dread. I’m not one for the mushy-gushy type of approach, but I think ya should try to smooth things over. See if ya can come to an equal understandin’ of each other, ya know?”

“I guess . . .”

“As for the cone head over there,” Meouch nodded in the direction of their leader, watching with cat-like eyes as he and Phobos worked on the ships, “catch him when he’s not swamped with tedious repairs. Ya can probably have a nice chat by the end of the night if everythin' goes accordin’ to plan.”

Strive nodded. “He and I were already going to discuss something later tonight.” He felt a nervous pang in his core, their talk surely focusing on his encounter with the Void ships. He felt hesitant to join the conversation, fearing he’d end up giving more information than he’d receive in return. Perhaps he could find a way to tilt the conversation in his favour, respecting the doctor’s boundaries while simultaneously learning some much needed facts. It would be tricky, but there was always hope.

“Good! Seems like yer’e already on yer way to recovery.” Meouch placed a firm paw on Strive’s back, offering a hearty series of pats. “Ya certainly fit well with the crew, kid. The best way to strengthen yer bond is to butt heads from time to time. Even the best of friends get into fights. Speakin' of which,” Meouch grinned mischievously, looking across the clearing and narrowing in on the unsuspecting Phobos. “I’m on my way to pester that damned rocketeer. See ya later, kid. Good luck with the robot!”

“I—thank you, Meouch!” Strive waved to the feline and watched him slink towards his companion with panther-like reflexes. His claws were retracted beneath his fur, his paws extended in anticipation as he quickly closed the distance between himself and his teammate. Strive didn’t have to see the impact to know it happened; he could hear the thunderous laugh that rumbled from Meouch’s chest, a series of frantic stomps chewing out the childish beastie. 

Turning away from the chaos, Strive let out a shaky sigh and braced himself for his talk with Havve. He began walking towards the sorrowful husk, his steps plagued with a slight hesitation. His core nearly shattered when he took in the pitiful posture of his friend. Shame crept into his chest when he realized how bad his words had effected Havve, more so than he ever thought possible. 

Meouch was right. Havve was definitely attached to him, going so far as to experience a near power failure when he expressed displeasure with his actions. 

Strive edged towards the robot, the sifting sands beneath his boots alerting the husk of his presence. Havve looked up, his ruby orbs flashing momentarily before fading to a dull hue, his head lowered in sadness, refusing to look at the boy he had upset. Strive frowned at the reaction and took a spot beside the hunk of metal. He brought his knees to his chest, slouched into his arms, and let out a sigh. For a while, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

The drawn out silence was deafening. It begged to be broken. Swallowing his awkwardness, Strive made the first move. “Sorry about earlier. I was feeling a little frustrated with you and Sung.” 

Havve—as per usual—said nothing in return, simply letting his companion do all of the talking. Strive expected this, though he had hoped to gain a different reaction for such an important conversation. Regardless if the robot spoke or not, he felt the need to lighten his chest, spilling his worries, fears, and frustrations without remorse.

“The two of you have been acting strange, almost like you’re trying to hide something. I’ve been trying to pick up on the clues as they come, but I’m at a loss as to why you’re being so careful around me. I’ve tried to find an answer through Sung, but he never gives me a straight response. Neither do you.” Strive’s voice sounded strangled, his bitterness beginning to creep to the surface. “I don’t understand why you can’t tell me what’s going on.”

Havve’s internal drumming skipped multiple beats; his scarlet eyes dilated into panicked points. The robot didn’t like where this conversation was going, yet he hadn’t heart—quite literally—to stop the boy's dialogue. His systems began overriding multiple orders at once, frantically fighting over which should be the dominant command for this delicate situation. 

He was programmed to listen to Sung without failure, but these overriding commands were technically the orders he had received from his partner. He was prohibited from sharing their past with the boy, but Strive’s well-being was placed high above every other protocol. No matter the situation, he was forced to put him above all else, complying to his wishes no matter how devastating they may be. Strive’s orders were top priority—they were absolute, unbreakable in every sense. Havve was bound to him whether he knew it or not.

Havve’s centre drummed in horror when Strive began cracking the code with painstaking precision, weaving his way through the loopholes of his complex protocol. The robot was dreading each passing second as a result. 

“I’ve noticed it all," whispered Strive. "The way the two of you look at me, the pain that crashes into Sung whenever I do something he doesn’t like—no, maybe it reminds him of someone from his past. Your last crew member, you lost them, didn’t you? The two of you live with the guilt, don’t you? I can always sense it . . . it feels absolutely awful.” 

Havve’s artificial limbs trembled. He couldn’t decide if these were his own emotions or the feelings that Sung was currently projecting onto him, the man frozen in place as he listened to the conversation from across the clearing. The two of them felt a deathly horror course through their veins, their carefully constructed walls slowly crumbling at the hands of their young companion.

He wasn’t supposed to find out. Not like this. It was never meant to be this cruel.

“I know you tried to hide it, for what reason I can’t even imagine. Whatever it may be, you must’ve had good intentions. But you can’t keep this façade up, Havve. Not anymore.” Strive swallowed pitifully, a steady flow of tears cascading down his cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t pry, but you can’t keep sheltering me from what you know. This goes beyond a personal secret; you know something that I don’t, and I hate it. I hate it so much.

“You knew something the moment you found me. How else would Sung have known I was from Moebius? How could he have known I was blinded by the sun, conveniently giving me the solution without a fuss? Everything he’s done has been guided by past knowledge, things he couldn’t have known unless he was familiar with my kind. Stars, he can even read my language! How the hell do you explain that?!”

Havve’s centre plummeted. He could hear the agonizing howls of his partner from across the clearing, his mind tortured by a silent menace. By this point, Sung had dropped to his knees, bombarded with worried shouts from the two oblivious teammates they had recruited for the mission. Of course they didn’t know what was happening; no one was supposed to know. How could they understand the dread they harboured? How could they possibly understand their loss?

No one knew.

But now, everyone would know. 

Strive stood abruptly, seething between rolling tears. His words lashed out like a carnivore’s talon, ripping into the two shattered beings. He tore into Havve, spitting and cursing as he screeched for the lies to end. “You’ve been lying to this whole crew! Phobos, Meouch, myself—where’s your honesty now? What am I to you? A burden? A nuisance? A reminder for the one you lost?!”

Havve raised a grasper in an attempt to calm the irate child. Strive slapped away his gesture, his eyes cold and callous as they sliced into the robot with a venomous potency. “Don’t. Just listen, and listen well, Hogan. That includes you too, Sung. I know you're listening to the conversation.” Havve felt himself choke, mirroring Sung’s emotions from across the terrain.

“I had so many suspicions as time went on. Whatever you’re hiding, it has something to do with me. Stars, what gives you the right to deny me the truth? Your ship—” Strive shook his head wretchedly, clenching his fists in frustration. “I saw the box, Havve. I _read_ the words. How did you get it? Your past companion; what’s their connection to me? What happened to them? The box . . . it was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

Strive paused, his vision beginning to spiral as previously obscured pieces began to weave themselves back into a cohesive image, the puzzle nearly complete once he dug into his past. Long into his past. A time before his village was swallowed by darkness, a time before the Void ships terrorized their planet, a time before he lost an important figure in his young life. 

He thought back to the stars above his head, how his tiny hand was guided towards a specific speck in the sky. Her gentle voice rocked him into safety, cradling him in the loving embrace of her words and stories. She’d hold him close, soothing him with her affectionate dotting, commenting on how much she adored his glimmering eyes. 

She was always so close, yet incredibly far all the same. He could hear her melodic laughter flow through the winds of his village, calling out to the stars and encouraging them fawn over her child, just as she did every single night. Her core would light up the darkness, wrapping the two of them in its vibrant blanket as she called him by his name. He was her Strive, he was her precious little child—

He was her one and only Starlight. 

Strive’s core dimmed, his azure light swamped in putrid grey; he fell to his knees in disbelief. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t bear the thoughts he had just uncovered. He sat with a statue’s stillness, a river of tears streaming down his pale face. 

How could they keep this from him? How could they deny him of his mother’s existence beyond the explosion?

How could they just let her die?

“Strive, please! You can’t—It’s not—!” Sung’s desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as the boy remained in his catatonic state, oblivious to the hysteric man that shook his shoulders. In an instant they was surrounded by the crew, each one yelling through the confusion. They watched their leader crumple to the sands, sobbing hysterically when he failed to reach out to the devastated child. “Strive, you weren’t supposed to find out this way! Please, we never meant for this to happen, you have to believe me!”

“Sung, what the hell is goin’ on?!” Meouch charged for their leader and ripped him away from Strive's form. The beastie’s hackles were raised to a feverish point, his fangs bared and tail lashing while he glared the doctor into the sands. “What did ya do? What the hell did ya do, Sung?!”

Phobos rushed to Strive’s aid and held him tight, attempting to shake some sense into him. He kept his touch gentle and caring, trying to compensate for the feral beast beside him. When he couldn't get through, the rocketeer joined his companion and scowled from behind his helmet, his obscured vision trained to fiery points; loathing hatred burned a hole in his leader. 

Meouch flashed his claws, a primal desire scratching to the surface. The beastie’s breath was laboured as he fought back the urge to dig into Sung’s flesh, the thought of drawing blood seeming quite appealing in his irate state. Alas, he couldn’t bring himself to cross that threshold, instead choosing to spit out a series of harsh words, each syllable laced with burning resentment. 

“The two of ya; what did ya do to Strive?" he barked. "Answer me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Sung, how could you keep this from me? She meant so much to me.” Strive’s broken voice carried through the hostile clearing, holding the same power as a bellowing shout. He didn’t need to scream to be heard; all ears were trained on the vanquished child, breaths bated as they gave into the suffocating heartache. “I always talked about her, yet you didn’t acknowledge her once. You never even mentioned her. You never told me she survived beyond the stratosphere. How could you disregard my feelings like that?”

“Strive, I couldn’t tell you! I—It was too difficult to even. . . ." Sung looked away. "When we found you, it felt like our worlds were ending again.” He covered his face with his hand, his shoulders wracked with pathetic sobs. 

After so many years of silence, the walls had finally begun to collapse.

“Do you know how awful it was to find you on that planet? Do you realize how much dread your existence brought back in our lives? It felt like a cruel joke, another trick the cosmos was delighted to torment us with. Every time I see you, I see her looking back. I’m reminded everyday, every hour, every second; the torture never ends. It never goes away, Strive.

"When we lost her, it was too much for us to handle. Everything was supposed to fall into place, every last plan was calculated to a fine point. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she wasn’t supposed to die! If only I hadn’t brought us there, none of this—augh, she would still be here if I wasn’t such an idiot!” Sung slammed his fists into the earth, a strangled gasp escaping him. “She was so important to us, she was . . . your mother—”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about her! I don’t want to hear her name on your damn tongue!” Strive turned to Sung, his eyes vacant and void of all its previous light. His core was swamped with a sickly grey, the colour slowly descending into a maddening black. The boy’s ears were taut and pulled back, his teeth bared as he yowled like a beast. “How could you let her die?! You claim that she was so important to you, but you failed to mention her name like her life meant nothing!”

“You don’t understand anything!” Sung glared at the child, his vitals thundering like a raging storm. His chest ached with a pain he could hardly bear, reminding him of that fateful day three years ago. He’d much rather carve his chest open with a blade then endure this heartbreak again. “She’s the one who convinced us to fight against the Void, she’s the one who drove us to bring back the stars! Without her, the Brigade would never have been formed; your mother is the reason for the Starlight Brigade!

“Without her courage, we would’ve never gotten this far. If Havve and I never encountered her, none of us would be standing here today. The cosmos would be doomed to fall into eternal darkness! Your mother was unbelievably important to us, so don’t you think for a second that we’ve ever forgotten about her sacrifice. There’s never a moment where she’s not in our thoughts!” 

With each secret Sung confessed, Strive's control began to weaken. He shook his head wretchedly, clawing at his arms as harrowing talons gripped his core. “You’re wrong, you never cared! You brought her to her death! If she hadn't encountered you, she’d still be alive today. She wouldn’t have died by your hand! You _killed_ her!” 

“Strive, please listen to me. She gave her life to the cause, devoting herself to bringing back the stars so she could return them to the cosmos. So she could return them to you!” Sung swallowed his gasping breaths, shaking pitifully as his tears muddled the sands. “Let me explain from the start. You’re right, you deserve to know the full story. Let me tell you everything—”

“No! Just shut up! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, you bastard!” Strive's eyes were squeezed shut, his mind assaulted by terrible shrieks and vile thoughts, each villainous image brought on by a series of sinister whispers. They called for him, wrapping their persuasive tendrils around his core as they pulled him into a suffocating darkness. They taunted him, encouraging his anger to grow and flourish beneath his tortured exterior. He dug his nails deeper into his skin, absorbing the pain like he deserved it.

Then, he went deathly silent.

The team became worried by his sudden state and quickly rushed to his side. Sung made an effort to approach, only to be thrown back by Meouch’s powerful paws. The doctor hissed when searing pain shot up his shoulder, a set of identical claw marks wracked across his skin. He watched as the blood poured from the wound. He looked to his attacker with a silent question, frozen in shock. Meouch gave a warning growl, his muzzle pulled back, ordering the man to keep his distance. He’d already done enough damage. 

Refusing to linger on the doctor, Meouch crouched beside Strive, holding him firmly in his fuzzy grasp. The feline’s whiskers twitched frantically while he gently shook his companion, his gravelly voice hitched high in panic. “Strive, snap out of it! Yer’e okay, just breathe, alright? It’s Meouch, ya hear me? Phobos is here too. We’re here for ya, Strive.” Meouch tore the boy's nails from his skin, nearly fainting when he saw the damage across his arms. “Strive, please—ya can’t do that to yerself.”

Strive fought the feline’s grip, managing to pull himself out of Meouch’s grasp with a surprising bout of strength. Blind to the world around him, he lashed out at his companions, his eyes nothing more than lifeless pools of anguish. He growled like a feral beast, dragging his nails across his chest as he clawed his shadowy core without remorse; the crew gasped at the faded gem, its azure life replaced by an abysmal black shard. The boy let out a gut wrenching scream, his maddened howls resonating throughout the entire wasteland. 

Strive lost all sense of himself, frantically tearing at his centre as if possessed by a demon. His trembles consumed him, a tortuous pain rippling through every nerve in his body. The crew rushed to his side, only to freeze when a distorted voice clawed its way up his throat. “Leave me alone!” 

“Strive!” yelled Meouch, his words raised with a harrowing lift. “Calm down! This isn’t who ya're at all! Somethin’ isn’t—”

“ _I said leave me alone!_ ”

Strive opened his eyes to glower at his companion, his celestial gaze violated by a viridian disease. The entire crew gasped in horror, backing away as they watched their young companion succumb to a sinister force. Arms dripping with scarlet blood, a core as black as night, eyes enveloped by a sickly jade glare—they were helpless to stop the boy’s descent into utter madness.

Pulled by invisible commands, Strive placed his bloodied fingers against his vacant core, yanking a brilliant essence from his centre. They watched him call his ship to the surface, frozen in place when they saw unspeakable things unfold in front of their eyes. The soft exterior of the vessel was pierced by deathly black shards, their jagged points seeping into every crevice the vessel possessed. The white beast gave a sorrowful moan, bending to the will of the Void’s devastating force. Its wings retracted into its body, a sheet of darkness seeping from the open gashes. The ship shifted with a series of terrible noises, numerous ragged edges erupting from its skin. The viewing window closed in on itself as a green hue filled the space, a single jade eye rolling into the poisoned iris.

The crew stood before the horrific beast, trembling like children when they beheld the demon of their nightmares. The truth had finally reared its ugly head; Strive had been harbouring a Void ship this entire time

He placed a hand on the Void ship’s shell, showing minimal reaction when the spikes yanked him into the interior of the hull. The last thing the crew saw was Strive’s vacant eyes staring back, their emerald glow burning into their petrified souls. Within seconds, the Void ship began to lift into the air, caring not what damages it left in its wake. It left the shell-shocked crew without a moment of hesitation, responding to a silent call beyond their resting point. 

Suddenly, a single voice rose above the chaos, his manic howls firing off a final command, one he prayed would bring back their companion before he was lost forever.

“Havve! Follow him!” pleaded Sung.

The Void ship catapulted into the blank skies, quickly followed by the bulky weight of Havve’s vessel. The robot rocketed through the skies, refusing to falter for even a single second while he honed in on his young companion—or whatever force had claimed him. The two ships disappeared in the distance, leaving the remaining crew members to wobble precariously in the silent clearing. Sung fell to the ground and let his tears flow, a devastating caterwaul ripping through his chest as he wept for the new reality they lived in.

He covered his face in shame, reliving the same amount of anguish he had experienced in the past, feeling as if another part of his soul were ripped from his body. He clawed the red sands, digging his fingers into the grains while his sorrows fell upon deaf ears—and the ears of the dead that haunted his past.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, letting the gentle breeze carry his tortured monologue to the rest of his crew members. They loomed above the broken man, feelings of sympathy and intense loathing corrupting their view of their fallen leader. “Please,” he sobbed, "forgive me."

"Avida, I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Happy times are not allowed, only anguish is permitted. 
> 
> I tell you, my fingers went lighting fast with this chapter! I was incredibly eager to get this one out! 
> 
> All the hints, prompts, and little suggestions I've been throwing around are finally coming to the surface. Trust me when I say there's still so much to dive into. For now, I leave you with a few samples to unravel. Tell me honestly, did you have your suspicious about the female companion? Everything will become clear as the chapters progress further, heh . . .  
> Thanks again for reading! While we're nowhere near the end, I can tell you that we're more than halfway through this tale. Thanks for sticking around this long, dear readers. It warms my heart < :^)


	20. An Immortal's Lamentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Little Starling. Oh, little Starling._
> 
> _What secrets have come to light?  
>  Have you lost the starlight in your eyes? Have you been taken by a terrible blight?  
> The voices of the damned, they call out to you. They cry, they hiss, they yowl into nothingness.  
> They pull you under, dragging you further. When all is done, they beg for forgiveness._
> 
> _Little Starling. Oh, little Starling._  
>  Please, forgive us.

The air hummed with the distant charge of Havve’s ship, the vessel having long disappeared in pursuit of their maddened companion. For a while, all was still in the deathly clearing, the only noise being the grievous sobs of their leader, his quiet whimpers a heart-wrenching sound to endure. 

Or so Meouch would be inclined to think had he not developed a sickening repulsion for the deceptive doctor. 

Unable to stand their environment much longer, Meouch lumbered towards his ship, his hackles bristled with shivering rage. “I’m goin’ after them. Phobos, yer’e comin’ too.” 

The rocketeer cast a solicitous gaze towards his leader, his steps hesitant once he beheld their fallen teammate. It was a sad sight to see, but one he found himself struggling to sympathize with. He had known Sung for three years and readily acknowledged that they were the best years of his life. To see him so broken was awful. To learn of his deception was disgusting. Painful beyond simple repairs. 

As the two teammates took a step to advance, Sung’s voice snapped from beneath his crouched form. “No, you can’t go.”

“And why not, huh?!” barked Meouch, reeling on his heels and trudging towards the doctor. His claws were flexed to the surface, a splotched substance soiling their black points. Blood. _Sung’s_ blood. The feline’s heart throbbed painfully at the sight, his stomach flipping in response. His muzzle twitched upwards and he bared his fangs, clicking his tongue between each harsh syllable as he tried to distract himself from the conflicting emotions he felt. “Do ya think I’m just gonna let him fly off like that? Ya think I’m gonna leave him all alone while that _thing_ takes control of him? Is that what ya think, Sung?!”

“You can’t follow him. I’ve already got Havve on his trail.”

“Oh, yer little robot lacky, eh? Both of ya're as good as dead to me after learnin’ about the shit the two of ya’ve done behind our backs. Behind Strive’s back!” Meouch kicked the sands, snarling at the man before him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot down his ship like the traitor he is!”

“Meouch, just stop it! You don’t know anything!” Sung whipped his head upwards, growling at the feline with a staggering fury. “Havve has done nothing but follow my orders; he couldn’t do anything else even if he tried! Everything he’s done has been driven by my commands and mine alone! You leave him out of this!”

Meouch scoffed, and loomed over the doctor. “Fine, I won’t shoot him down. But yer’e outta yer mind if ya think I’m gonna sit here and do nothin’ while our teammate’s been compromised! Phobos,” he turned his back on their leader, “we’re goin’.”

“Idiot! Do you really think I don’t want to go after Strive? I’m telling you to stay for a reason!” Sung gestured to their ships, spitting bitterly at their conditions. “We haven’t been able to fix the navigation programs yet. If you went out into the open without a way of tracking your location, you’d be facing certain death! What happens if you get separated? You’d never be able to find anyone in this wasteland! With the threat of Void ships on this planet, you’d be torn to shreds before anyone could come to your aid! I’m not keeping you here because I want to; I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us? By doin' what? Keepin’ secrets, tellin’ lies, playin’ with the kid’s emotions like they meant nothin’?” Meouch felt repulsed by the things he brought to attention. “It’s—Sung, how could ya? How could ya do somethin’ so cruel to Strive?”

“I never meant to hurt him. I just—how could I tell him? How do you expect me to tell him something as horrible as what I’ve been through?”

“What _ya’ve_ been through?” Meouch squawked incredulously. “What about what _Strive’s_ been through?! How the hell could ya look him in the eye every day knowin’ that his mother was killed by yer side? Keepin’ that information to yerself, yer nothin’ but a selfish monster!” 

“If I were selfish like you claim, I would have forgotten everything the moment she was gone! I would have thrown away her memory in order to keep my sanity! I would have turned my back on this wretched galaxy! But no, I didn’t do that. Not even close . . ." Sung clenched his fists into the sands. "Do you know what I did, Meouch? I kept her in my mind every day since she died, I keep her memory alive through the Starlight Brigade, I kept fighting the battle she believed in, even when she was no longer by our sides! 

“I could have left this world to die beneath the darkness. Why should the cosmos rejoice when I was left with nothing?” He gave a bitter laugh, holding back the sting of tears. “I never planned to lift a finger when the Void first showed up. As far as I was concerned, it was none of my business as to what happened to billions of insignificant lifeforms. A little extra darkness in the cosmos? Please, I've already experienced millennia of suffocation. What was one more disaster to add to the list?

“She wasn’t supposed to be there, but the cosmos works in mysterious ways. I should know. I’ve seen it time and time again through the endless years.” The doctor smiled sadly, his words hushed and fragile. “At first, I paid her no heed. Her goal was ridiculous. After all, what good could a single individual do against a catastrophic force? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by the way she pushed my expectations to the side. There she was; a being with a virtuous dream. Then there was me, the undying with nothing left to lose.”

Meouch growled with impatience. “I don’t see where this is goin’, Sung. How does any of this relate to Strive?”

Sung scoffed. “Do you know why she set out in the first place? Why she was willing to risk her life for a thankless world such as this? I’ll tell you. She wanted to bring the stars back, yes, but there was more to her drive than the possibility of heroic glory. She wasn’t driven by selfish desires, nor was she looking for the esteem of the entire cosmos. She was just a devoted mother, one who wanted to bring the world back to her child. Everything she did was for the one she called her Starlight. For the one we know as Strive.

“When she died, I promised to keep her wish alive. If not in her memory, then for the child we had yet to meet. Avida wanted to bring back her son’s star—I wanted to fulfill her dream and make it a reality, just like I always promised.”

Meouch’s haunches settled once he listened to the doctor’s cryptic explanations. He was still wary of the man, yet deep down, he couldn’t see him as anything but his leader, the one who always had the best intentions at heart. His choice was undeniably foolish, but no doubt driven by pure ideals. For Sung to be a malicious being was impossible—misguided would be an accurate description. Meouch kept this in mind as he crouched into the red sands, his eyes narrowed and awaiting further information. 

The beastie felt tongue-tied by his next question, unsure of how to word the dubious topic. “Let me ask ya somethin’. That woman, was she—”

“Avida. Her name was Avida.”

“Right.” Meouch bit his tongue, correcting himself instantly. He could feel Sung’s insistence on calling her by her name, clearly displeased by his cold tone in regards to the woman he treasured. He’d remember to address her properly in the future. It seemed like the respectable thing to do. “Avida, was she . . . y’know. Ya seem to be awfully attached to her and I’m hesitant to ask if—”

Sung chuckled quietly, seeming amused by the inaccurate assumption. “Stars alive, no. I can assure you that such a thing never crossed my mind. What a cliché trope, one I’m thankful to have avoided.” He gave a withered smile. “Avida was very special to me, but not like that. She was someone Havve and I considered a friend, the best we had ever known. In that sense, I can't deny how much love we truly felt for her.”

Meouch felt the uncomfortable weight slosh off his shoulders once the tricky topic was cleared—it wasn’t like that at all. 

_Thank heavens,_ thought the beastie. He wasn’t one who favoured a dance around the trivial trails of romance. 

“So, the Starlight Brigade. . . . What's its real purpose?” asked Meouch. “From what I’ve gathered by yer explanation, ya were never fightin’ for the cosmos as a whole. Ya were always fightin’ for a specific purpose, one ya promised to uphold even though the original dreamer was lost. Despite never meetin’ her son, ya vowed to help her. Ya kept her dream alive all these years, the ultimate goal revolvin’ around a single kid stranded on an unknown planet. Why? Why all this trouble for one child?”

“Because . . .” Sung gave a heavy sigh. “Because she was Avida. She was the one who let me see the world for what it was; she gave me a new life to live. Before I met her, my existence was meaningless. Sure, I had Havve, but he was equally meaningless. We both were. We were nothing more than timeless beings without a purpose to justify our undeserving breaths. Avida gave us life. She gave us something to strive for, something to hope for. She made us want to live another day, promising a new way of looking beyond the blank veil.

“Nothing was dark when Avida was with us. She took our hands and guided us towards a better existence, one we looked forward to experiencing. She let us know that there were things worth fighting for.”

Meouch gave a slow hum. “Strive . . .”

Sung nodded. “Yes. Something as precious as a child became important to us as well. Having never felt the need to invest in something, her desire was the first thing either of us had ever pledged ourselves to. It didn’t feel tedious, nor did it seem meaningless. She cared for him, so we did too. Before we knew it, our lives became entwined with Avida’s goals—we found ourselves devoted to her motherly cause. We promised to bring starlight back to her child.”

The feline looked to his side, noticing that Phobos had taken a seat beside him. The rocketeer’s attention was glued to the storyteller as things began to unravel, his visored glare seeming shocked as his investment grew. 

Meouch trailed his eyes downwards, a bubble of unease building in his centre. “Strive, he’s. . . . Sung, what’s happened to him?”

The doctor visibly flinched. He shook his head wretchedly. “I-I don’t know. That thing—it’s not Strive. That’s not who he is.” 

“Then what is he? That wasn't just anythin’, that was a Void ship. Ya saw what happened to him, Sung. It’s like he’s been possessed by his vessel. That thing was mysterious to begin with, but now . . . I don’t know what to think.” Meouch shook his head solemnly, his words torn and broken. “Is that even Strive anymore?”

Sung was quiet while he processed his complex thoughts. He swallowed nervously, choosing his next words carefully. “I’ve thought about it for a while. Ever since we first examined his vessel, I had a theory, but I could never piece together a probable answer. With everything we’ve seen, I’ve come to realize that probable is not what we’re looking for. We’re dealing with the impossible, and it’s pretty grim if my hunch is correct.” 

“Don’t hold anythin’ back, Sung. There aren’t any lies for ya to hide behind now.” Meouch snapped, his tone frank and to the point. “If it’s somethin’ that concerns Strive, we want to know and we want it given as honest as it comes. Ya screwed up big time, so make it up to us by bein’ truthful for once in yer freakish life.”

Chastised beneath the feline’s snarls, Sung nodded his head guiltily. He let his gaze drift to Phobos, then towards Meouch’s prickled form. He let out an unsteady gust of wind, wondering how he should start the untold secrets of his past. Not only his past, but Avida’s as well—Strive’s in particular.

The boy didn’t even know about this crucial part of his existence. Avida may have taken these secrets to her grave, but Sung held onto the inscription. He knew more than he cared to admit, a burden that weighed his chest down to the pits of Hell.

“In order to understand Strive," Sung cautioned, "you have to learn about his mother first. Avida was full of wicked tales the moment we first met her, but nothing could prepare me for the things she confessed during our travels. In all my life, I’ve never crossed paths with a fabled being. The closest I ever got was Avida, a seemingly typical woman with an atypical gift for wonders beyond her own world.

  
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It was dark, wretchedly so. Nothing was clear, nor was it comprehensible. Everything was black; darker than dark. Darker than the abysmal shadows of the cosmos, darker than the most maleficent force imaginable, darker than the outskirts of nothingness—

Everything was null. Everything was Void. 

The whispers, they carried through his mind like the chilling hiss of a serpent, coiling their tendrils around his vacant core. Their fangs sunk into his centre, pulling him deeper into their sinister calls, their persuasion much too strong to resist any longer. Much too strong to resist again.

 _Here comes the Starling,_ they called through the nothingness. _Reclaimed at last, taken once more._

 _Here comes the Starling,_ they wailed again, their silent voices rising to a fervent uproar. _Claimed by the shadows, stolen from the light. Here comes the Starling, stripped of his freedom, cursed by his existence._

 _There goes the Starling,_ they howled into the abyss, their guttural screams drenched with unholy amounts of rage, hatred, and sorrow. Their voices dripped with potent despair, sobbing for the child beneath their inescapable grasp. _Void of starlight, broken by our corrupt claws, ripped from the battle we yearn to end. A saviour no more. Cursed to fall a second time._

_Little Starling, Oh, little Starling. Back with us again, yet wrongfully so. Where is your starlight? Where is your precious star? Have you forgotten? Have you lost the starlight in your eyes?_

_Oh, little Starling, forgive us._

  
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Havve sped through the skies at blinding speeds, his vessel embodying the force of an emerald hurricane as he tore across the dusty terrain. The ship whistled like a dart, catching the winds in a way that made his vessel yowl like a demonic beast. He willed himself to keep a steady tempo, pushing his limits without a second thought while he closed in on the Void ship in front of him

The robot’s mind began tearing itself apart once he neared the hideous vessel, his jaw clenched to crushing levels as he fought back the urge to destroy to abomination in the sky. More than once, he nearly struck a weapon’s command, only to tear his arm away with a series of panicked thumps from his chest. His arms trembled from the exertion he was feeling, a pocket of steam erupting from his limbs while he fought the commands of his protocol. 

The Void ship was a threat to his crew; it was a threat to Strive. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to demolish the ship, not when his young companion was locked inside. Countless times his vision was submerged in a red hue, his pesky programming identifying the vessel as a hostile entity. The robot would shake his head, overriding the command with an image of Strive, the boy who was corrupted by the evil in front of him. 

No matter what, Havve swore to protect the child for as long as he could. But how could he protect the boy when his life was riddled with unforeseen dangers? How could he protect the child when he had already given into the darkness? 

Havve catapulted through the air, rapidly closing in on the jagged beast. He tried to scan the foul creature, only for his sensors to come up with nothing. The ship had no identification to hone in on; it was nothing more than an empty husk of its former self. The being inside was reduced to a puppet, bending to the will of an unseen force.

When he reached the Void ship's side, Havve managed to get a glimpse of the pilot inside, only to stumble back once he beheld the disturbed state of his young companion: 

Strive was looking directly at him, his viridian eyes lifeless as they stared vacantly into the robot’s scarlet orbs. Havve felt his vitals shift in a foul mix of disgust and horror, the sight much too painful to endure. Desperate to gain a reaction, the robot waved frantically through his window, silently pleading for the boy to recognize him. 

Strive’s eyes were dead, void of emotion and the previous shine that kept his spirits strong. He seemed to be stuck in a trance-like state, his thoughts surrendered to the voices of his mind. He didn’t seem to register Havve's presence, paying the robot no heed and casting his gaze elsewhere, following the movements of his compromised vessel. 

Fighting back panic, Havve tried to establish another connection, tapping his controls frantically with the hopes of rekindling a link. If that was still Strive’s ship, then surely he could get through. Unfortunately, his efforts proved useless when his sensors came up with nothing, identifying Strive’s vessel as a hostile beast instead. One that was meant to be destroyed without a second thought.

Havve clenched his jaw in frustration, forcing the metal to grind together with a terrible shriek. He chattered restlessly, running through his complex circuits as he tried to think of a way to get through to the mindless child. He couldn’t be gone, he just couldn’t be. There had to be a way to bring him back to his senses, but what could that entail? 

He had gone savage for a reason—no, it was the product of many things. Through the course of their travels, Strive would get into all sorts of trouble, but perhaps it wasn’t his fault to begin with. While the other’s were left unaffected by the Void ship’s influence, Strive had always been sensitive to their presence. He could sense them and hear their innermost thoughts despite his reluctance. He’d seemed visibly uncomfortable whenever one was near, their persuasions muddling his judgement as time progressed. 

The strain he had been subjected to, the intense emotional baggage he carried with him, the catastrophic outcome of the truth coming to light—it must have been the final tipping point for the fragile being. Mistakes had been made, but perhaps they could be forgiven if given time to explain. It was unlikely that Strive would listen to a word Sung had to say, but it was possible that another perspective could bring him back to his senses. A voice of reason through the chaos. 

Havve grimaced, wondering if he should tap into the things he held within his memory chambers. He and Sung’s poor handling of this information was what caused Strive to react so viciously in the first place. Would sharing more only worsen his condition, or did it hold the potential to bring him back? If the robot could sigh, he most certainly would. If he had lungs, he’d be overworking them right now, subjecting the strange organs to an onslaught of frantic breathing and inadequate oxygen. He was anxious, much more than the average robot should be.

Blinking furiously, he mustered up the courage to make one more connection, this particular method proving to be a rather unique approach. He knew what he had to do, but it was difficult to even find the right words. In any other situation, Havve—as per usual—would remain silent. However, this was no ordinary situation. Far from it. One of his free graspers dug into his piloting chair, nearly bending the metal beneath his powerful grip.

He'd done it before, but it had hurt him greatly. Actively engaging with living beings was something he had only done twice, three times if counting his momentary slip-up in the perennial bridge. There was also that time by the campfire, having fallen into the untimely grasp of nostalgia. Out of habit, he had accidentally reached out to the boy, just as he had done in his past during a similar situation. Strive had certainly noticed, much to the robot’s dread. He never meant to kindle a connection in the first place. He thought he’d never open up again after everything he’d been through. 

It was particularly painful because of who he was reminded of whenever he saw the child, his regrets preventing him from forming a bond despite the underlying desire to do so. For a rational creation such as himself, Havve was frightfully irrational at times. Emotions were a fickle thing to work with.

He bit back his hesitance, acknowledging the current dilemma before him. There was no time to waste, only actions to be taken. Strive needed his help—there was no backing down now. He’d face his demons head on, welcoming their arrival with six open arms.

Havve—as per _never_ —decided to break his silence.

“Strive, I’m sorry.”

Across his vision, he saw Strive’s immobile form twitch, his vacant eyes going wide at the sudden voice. It seemed to have momentarily claimed his attention, blocking out the vile influences that plagued his soul. Havve felt his vitals spark to life, a shred of hope finding its way to his centre. He was able to get through, if not for a second, then certainly for a small fraction of time. There was still a chance after all!

“You have every right to be angry," Havve began. "You have every right to recoil in our presence. If you were to condemn us to the farthest pits of the Wastelands, I’d accept the sentence without any resistance. We’ve done unspeakable things, we’ve denied you of the truth you deserved. We’ve kept secrets that were not ours to begin with. We hurt you, Strive. We hurt you terribly. It’s unfortunate that we’ve only now come to realize the consequences of our foolish actions.” 

He saw Strive’s vessel wobble precariously, its strength seeming to waver beneath his words. The corrupt pilot dragged his eyes to the side, staring at the robot with vehement repulsion. “To what pleasure do I owe your voice, Havve? I assume Sung sent you with another series of orders, ones you must comply with, no doubt. What did he tell you? To coax me back to the clearing? To fill my head with even more lies than before? To smooth things over, pushing the issue into the shadows without a second thought?!” Strive’s snarl ripped through Havve's connection, his telepathic link wounded from the reaction.

“Yes, he did send me. He’s worried about you. We all are. Your safety is of great importance to us. It always has been, Strive” 

“My safety, huh? Is that just another word for the oblivious front you want to uphold? Is your idea of safety preventing me from knowing the truth? Who were you protecting when you kept my mother’s death to yourselves? Was it for me, or was it for your own peace of mind?” Strive scoffed, his thoughts laced with an awful hiss. “If you never mentioned it, then surely she never happened in the first place. What good does a dead woman do for you? How could she matter in your minds?”

“Strive,” Havve pleaded, “your mother’s sacrifice was never something we wanted to hide. It was just too difficult for us to explain to you. We feared rejection. We feared the pain it would bring to you. We—

“Oh yes, the pain of knowing would be an _awful_ thing to endure, wouldn’t it?” Strive cackled madly, his words soaked with biting sarcasm. “Tell me, Havve, what’s worse in that artificial head of yours? Knowing your mother was dead and accepting the fact, or being tricked into travelling with her murderers, blind to their treachery and going along with their plans like a fool? I trusted you, I felt safe in your company. Now,” he clawed at his chest, scratching at the onyx shard without remorse, “I wish I never encountered you. I wish the two of you were dead.”

Havve grimaced, his vitals locked in a state of dread. The raw emotions that Strive was projecting were much too awful for his partner to endure; he made the choice to cut his connection with Sung for the time being. Without a living being to gain feelings from, Havve was left to experience everything on his own, harkening back to the emotions he had learned throughout the years. 

Calling him an emotionless monster was insulting. With everything he was feeling in his tightening chest, he was just as alive as any living being in the cosmos. 

“These thoughts, they’re not yours, Strive. You’ve been compromised by the Void. You need to regain your control. Let us help you. We can fix this, we can explain everything to you if you give us the chance.” Havve’s voice held a promising lift to it, one he hoped would sooth the boy’s irate state. “I can tell you everything. Everything about Sung and I, our mission before the Brigade, the things your mother did in order to bring back the stars.” He saw Strive visibly flinch the the mention of his mother. “I'll explain it all. Please, just give me the chance.”

“You—why? Why should I trust you? Do you honestly think that I can look at you bastards the same way ever again?! You hurt me, you hurt my mother . . . it’s your fault that she’s dead! She never would have died if she had avoided you in the first place!”

“You’re wrong, Strive. She would have died in the stratosphere if we hadn’t encountered her.” Havve kept his stance despite the vicious onslaught of the boy’s words. If he could just hit the right note, he could de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand. “Your first belief was entirely correct; her ship did burn up before it cleared the atmosphere. Reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash. If your mother had stayed in that vessel, you would have been correct this entire time. But you were wrong, you always have been. 

“She lived beyond the stratosphere, Strive. She lived for eight more years, never faltering, never resting. She lived because we managed to cross paths. She didn’t join us against her better judgment, she acknowledged the hardships ahead of her. We warned her of the dangers she would surely face, but she didn’t care. None of these risks mattered to her—death was just an obstacle for her to overcome. So long as she held onto hope, she was willing to risk it all in order to bring back the stars. She wanted nothing more than to bring them back to you.” 

“Shut up, Havve. Shut up!” Strive’s voice became tangled by feverish rage, his disoriented condition causing his words to slur together in confusion. He was nearly unintelligible as he garbled through the pain. “You’re lying! It’s all lies! Nothing you say is real!”

“But it is. I’ve never forgotten a single day of our travels, each one holding a special place in my artificial heart. She would talk about you, Strive. Oh, how she would talk. At first, we couldn’t understand what was so important about the young life form she left behind. We thought it was pointless. We couldn’t comprehend her attachment to the one she left on a distant planet. Surely she’d forget about you the longer she was away. We soon learned that nothing could be further from our initial assumption.

“She’d rave about you every day, telling us how she used to dote and fuss over her precious little boy, promising that we’d get the chance to meet once the mission was over. There were days where her spirits were fiery like the sun. Other times, she suffered bouts of depression from the years of your life she was missing. We’d worry for her, but she'd brush us off with a simple laugh. All the pain she went through would be worth in the end. If she could see you smile one last time, all would be well. Her purpose would be fulfilled, her mission would be complete.” 

“That doesn’t explain why you killed her!” howled Strive, his composure ripping apart by the seems. He clutched his head, fighting back the voices in his mind. “If she meant so much to you, you would've protected her! You wouldn’t have let her die!”

“She changed our lives, you know,” Havve continued, pushing through Strive’s defences as he punctured the walls with even more ammunition. Slowly but surely, cracks were beginning to form. It hurt him to see Strive so distressed, but he had to do it. 

He needed to bring back his starlight eyes. 

“We never actually met you. We had only heard stories of your existence. The things she confessed to us; we could not believe them. Suddenly, her small child became the most important thing to us. We devoted ourselves to your mother’s cause, forming a group she named in your honour. 

“While it may seem foolish to some, our little trio quickly grew close, forming a bond beyond our previous comprehension. Having never found a need for useless friendships, it was a welcomed change to be in your mother’s presence. Everything was good when she was around, everything had a purpose when Avida was by our sides. Our little group suddenly felt inseparable, held together by an unbreakable oath. We promised to fight for what she believed in. We came to understand her passions. Not just for the cosmos as a whole, but for the Starlight she wished to protect. 

“The Starlight Brigade was founded on the single desire of your mother. All of this was possible because of her determination, her fearlessness, her selfless devotion to you. Sung and I promised to uphold her wish even in light of her death. We promised her, Strive. We promised to bring back the stars for you. For her Starlight—for what soon became _our_ Starlight.”

“Why are you telling me this? What are you trying to gain?!” snarled Strive. The Void ship began to fluctuate between jagged spikes and the smooth exterior of his white vessel. Strive’s eyes narrowed when a harrowing sickness swamped his stomach. He quickly grabbed his core, holding onto the dimmed gem; it housed a subtle azure hue. Havve watched his eyes flicker from a venomous green to the familiar shimmer of a celestial glow. “Why? I—I don’t . . . what have I become . . .?” Strive whispered. 

The Void’s influence was beginning to loosen.

“You deserve to know what we’ve been hiding," said Havve. "It wasn’t right to withhold this information from you. We see that now; we’re sorry—I’m sorry. We only wanted to keep you safe from the pain, but we ended up hurting you as a result.”

Havve watched as Strive’s eyes lost their green shine, his sullen gaze overtaken by the steady flow of tears. The boy trembled and fell to the floor of his vessel, the harsh, black exterior shedding its layers in the wind. The viewing window became clear once the horrible iris disappeared with the darkness, leaving clarity in its wake. The ethereal beast visibly shivered and rid itself of any remaining influence, a vibrant blue sparking from its engine when it took control once and for all. 

Strive was no longer visible in the viewing window, causing Havve’s vitals to jump in fear. Then, he could hear a distinct sound through their telepathic link. The gentle sobs of his young companion echoed through his mind, their weight unbelievably heavy as he wept through the pain, sorrow, and staggering regret he felt in his core. Havve could see the miserable glow that infiltrated Strive's vessel, its azure shine low and woeful.

Havve listened to his companion weep in the darkness, his own circuits feeling tight and fragile. Such an awful sound, one he felt terrible for ever causing. 

“Strive?” he called from his ship, cautiously testing his companion’s sanity. “We should talk. I mean it. Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. I can’t go against your orders—Sung made sure to rig my protocol to follow your commands the moment we realized who you were. Truth be told, I was already devoted the moment we encountered you. There was no mistaking the starlight in your eyes. I knew. I always have.”

He heard a small gasp on the other end, followed by a few calming sniffs as Strive tried to process this new information. His anger had since left him, dissolved into nothingness the moment he expelled the Void’s poisonous influence. He couldn’t be angry anymore, only grievous. 

“My mother," whispered Strive. "She always said that to me. You knew from the beginning. All this time, you . . .” Havve panicked, thinking he was going to spiral out of control a second time. Luckily, the boy only sighed, his rage having been exhausted during his emotional battle. “Was she brave? Was she as fearless as I remembered her to be?”

The robot felt choked up. He paused, trying to endure the wave of emotions that crashed into his circuits. “Yes, she was. Avida was one of the most valiant beings I had ever met. Nothing was impossible to her. She genuinely believed in the cause she was fighting for.” 

“Then all this started because of me? If I hadn’t been born, she—”

“ _Stop_ ,” snapped Havve. “This way of thinking is pointless. You can’t possibly blame yourself for any of this, Strive. Avida made the choice to live her life as she did, she made the choice to have a child, she made the choice to fight for you and the stars. Blaming yourself like this is idiotic. It’s impractical, useless in every sense. Your irrational thought process, it reminds me of Sung. Don’t start shifting the weight of her death on your shoulders, you had nothing to do with it. If only Sung would see it this way as well.”

“What do you mean?” asked Strive in a low voice. He sounded drained, weary to the marrow of his bones. “The way he talks, he makes it sound as if he was the one who killed her. He even admitted to it, he said—”

“He’s wrong. He’s blinded by a guilt that shouldn’t be there in the first place.” The robot shook his head solemnly. “He blames himself for the ambush, but none of us could have ever predicted something that sudden. He likes to believe that if he was quick enough, he could have avoided the attack. Had he not been standing in that exact position, Avida wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice herself. If he hadn’t been careless, we’d remain a party of three, not a dishevelled duo after a failed crusade. There are many things he mulls about in his life; trust me, I can never escape them. His thoughts won’t let me forget for a second.”

Strive went quiet. Slowly, he pieced together the information he was given. “My mother did that? She sacrificed herself for Sung?”

“Not only Sung, but myself as well. Technically speaking, of course.” Havve cast his scarlet gaze to the blank skies, reminiscing about his difficult past. “Things went wrong the second we entered the battlefield. Our plans were faulty, our expectations were met with scenarios we had never thought to consider. Each of us had made the decision to advance, convinced that our plan was foolproof. Needless to say, we were mistaken. Collectively, we were all to blame for the things that unfolded.

“It only took us a few moments to be overwhelmed by the fleet. I was assigned the task of destroying any scavengers that crossed our paths, serving as both offence and defence during the fight. Our ships were separate, consisting of me and Sung; your mother functioned as his co-pilot. We hadn’t the chance to assign her with a ship, but she didn’t mind at all. After her first flight into the stratosphere, she wasn’t too keen on piloting her own ship. She would much rather act as a guide for Sung, sometimes even myself. She took the role of navigator, but we both saw her as the true leader of the Brigade.

“When it became apparent that our battle was lost, we tried to flee through the Bridge. Our initial plan was to fire off our weapons and cause a massive explosion, jumping into the Bridge in order to avoid the aftershocks—we would catapult ourselves thousands of light years away from the army. Sure, our ships would suffer from an over saturated engine, but it was more ideal than certain death. Sung had programmed the device to transport us to a suitable planet, one we could safely recover and regroup on. You may recall the story that Sung mentions from time to time, how we accidentally crossed paths with Meouch and Phobos?"

"You mean . . ." Strive gasped at the revelation. "It was because of the battle that you crash landed on Phobos' planet? Fleeing the Void is what brought you all together?"

Havve nodded. "Yes. When Sung programmed the gateway, he purposely located an appropriate planet for us to land on. He had no way of knowing whether it was inhabited or not—we just needed an escape route. The moment we lost Avida, we were forced to encounter two new lifeforms without a moment to recover. They knew nothing of what we had just gone through, they knew nothing of our heartbreak. We wouldn't let them. We hid it instantly, forcing ourselves to carry on through the pain lest we risk our descent into insanity. No one needed to know. We believed that no one was capable of understanding our devastation. Had our mission been a success, Avida would have been able to meet the others. Unfortunately, our original plan went awry rather quickly.”

He let his words linger in their link, taking a much needed pause so he could reclaim the words he felt slipping from his grasp. He never liked thinking about that day. He loathed it. 

“Sung developed a device that was meant to keep our ships hidden from the Void’s sights. The cloaking shield worked on my ship, as did it on theirs. Since we were hidden, we were under the impression that we’d be able to remain undetected. In my case, this was true . . . for Sung and your mother, they were sensed the moment they encountered the first Void ship. 

“For some reason, the Void ships were instantly attracted to their vessel, training their eyes on the invisible space they inhabited. Perhaps it had something to do with them being living life forms and myself being artificial. In any case, I did my best to fight off the scavengers, but their numbers grew much quicker than we anticipated. Soon, they were surrounded, forced to fly through the debris as they desperately tried to escape with their lives. All I could do was watch and fire my weapons, bound to my master’s command until further instructions were provided. I still think about my actions and how much hate they bring me whenever I remember.” Havve gazed across his ship’s window, looking at the boy with a shameful scowl. “I am loyal to a fault, Strive.”

Strive shivered, biting his lower lip as he waited for the story to continue. “Then what happened?”

“Like any encounter with a Void fleet, they attacked in a mass, swarming Sung’s ship like an infestation. By this point, we hadn’t encountered Phobos and his expert repair skills. When Sung’s ship was hit, it was hit hard. I watched the damages roll off the exterior, crippling his wings and burning up the engines with a single blast. Our ship’s connection was compromised, but our minds were still linked through the chaos. I could hear Sung curse through the hull, damning the creatures with everything he had. I could also hear Avida, her words firm and insistent as she gave me her final command:

“She told me to retreat without them—I had to follow her orders. I followed them without any hesitation. To this day, there’s not a moment where I can forget the shame of my compliance.”

Havve paused his story, waiting for Strive to interject whenever he felt the need. So far, there had been nothing but a grim silence, urging the robot to carry on with the harrowing tale. Heaving a theoretical sigh, he relayed the information he saw in the aftermath of their failures.

“Each of us had been given the key to the Bridge and its coordinates in preparation for our evacuation. I had unlocked the gateway and was travelling through the tunnel long before Sung rejoined me. His ship was badly damaged, as was he. The hull had been torn to shreds, the engines pulled from their sockets, the back of the ship was a gaping wound, exposing him to the open elements of the cosmos. It was a blessing that he had a filtration mask on hand, otherwise he would have risked asphyxiation. Yes, he was battered, bloodied, and gasping for breath when I found him. He was also crying, incoherent in every sense. That’s when I noticed Avida hadn’t made it through the Bridge.

“This was the first time I had ever seen Sung so heartbroken. It was foreign to see, even more intense for me to feel. I was bound to Sung’s emotions, and the onslaught was terrible. Stars, it was a pain worse than death. You briefly mentioned that you wished Sung and I were dead,” Strive flinched, looking away in disgust at his own actions. Havve shook his head slowly, harbouring no ill-will. “When we lost Avida, we wished we were.

“I gathered bits and pieces of the event through Sung’s sputtering breaths. He would howl about his foolishness, he’d damn the existence of the Void, he’d scream for a second chance, begging for a way to retrace his steps one place to the left—he’d call for Avida, sobbing for her to appear beyond the veil. We both knew it was impossible, more so Sung. He had seen it all. He knew she was dead in the Wastelands.

“It started with the Bridge keys,” began Havve. “Both Avida and Sung had one, each device being tethered to the ship’s control panel. Since there were two of them in the ship, it made sense for each of them to have one in the event that the other was unable to continue. It was smart, and it should have worked in their favour. But it didn’t. It only made things worse. 

“When Sung’s ship had been attacked, the impact compromised their air supply. They were forced to preserve their oxygen through the filtration masks—it kept them alive a little longer, but it seemed useless when they considered their position. Then, their ship was torn apart at the seams. The exterior was flayed, the circuits fried to nothing, the engines ripped to useless shreds; the back of the ship was destroyed, exposing them to the hostile battle field without a single means of defending themselves. When the hatch was destroyed, everything on the inside was pulled out into the open space, the Bridge keys included.

“They were left stranded in his ship, clinging to whatever they could grab so they didn’t get pulled from the hull. At one point, Sung nearly fell victim to the vacuum of space. Avida caught him, promising that she wouldn’t let go no matter what. Even in the face of death, she was still looking out for him—for us. All this time, she only wanted what was best for us. Then . . .” Havve always hated this part. He could feel his vitals seize painfully when he was forced to relay the horrible image, one that Sung had the misfortune of ever witnessing in the first place.

“What happened?” pressed Strive, his voice hitched while tears rolled down the side of his face. He seemed to be expressing the feelings Havve held within his artificial body, possessing an uncanny ability to pick up on his innermost emotions. The boy was crying not just for himself, but for Havve as well. 

“When Sung told me what she did, I experienced what it meant to be utterly devastated for the first time in my life. 

"She pulled him back up to a solid point and ordered him to hold on. She ignored Sung’s panicked shouts, choosing to laugh at his response. She tried to calm him down, joking that they might as well do something in such a shitty situation. Even near the end, Avida never lost her sense of humour, nor her ability to raise our spirits in the most terrifying situations. Her infuriating optimism eventually rubbed off on Sung, a trait he still tries to carry to this day.

“Once Avida managed to secure Sung, she thanked him. She thanked the both of us.” Havve relayed each sentence with great care, recalling every single word Sung had wept on that fateful day. The robot set his jaw tightly. “She thanked us for going along with her plan, for putting up with her nonsense throughout the years. She also apologized for putting us in this situation—Sung was quick to cut her off. We never saw the cause as a burden, we saw it as our new purpose, one that brought joy and meaning to our lives. We wanted to see the mission through. We wanted to bring the stars back to her child. If it made her happy, then we were happy too. 

“Sung promised to prevail no matter what, promising to get the two of them out of the ambush alive. Avida believed him, but with a few changes in mind; that’s when she decided to jump from the ship.

“It all happened so fast. Your mother threw herself into the Void ship’s territory, managing to secure one of the Bridge keys in her grasp. By this point, the scavengers were already training their weapon on her. She was vulnerable in the open space, knowingly drifting to her death so she could save her companion. The last thing Sung saw was her knowing smile, Bridge key in hand as she pressed the button beneath the currents of the Void ship’s weapons. He never saw the direct impact, just the anticipated hit, a moment that is forever engraved in his mind—perhaps that’s what drove him to near madness in the first place.

“Avida’s last wish was for the two of us to escape the Void. She wanted to continue the fight, but she knew there was no way for her to survive the attack. Rather than risk both of their lives, she chose to sacrifice herself so Sung could live on. She wanted us to keep living, she wanted us to experience the life we had yet to claim for ourselves. Your mother is the reason we’re fighting today. We refuse to quit, we refuse to give up—we will never rest until her goal is accomplished. We owe it to her to keep on going. We owe it to you to keep her wish alive.”

Their link was quiet. The robot looked through his window, concerned for his young companion. Had he said too much? Was Strive reacting negatively to this information? Would his vessel fall prey to the influence of the Void once more? He hoped they could avoid another stressful experience, both for their sanities and the well-being of the dishevelled child. The Void’s manipulation had taken a toll on Strive, causing a foul mixture of mental and physical damage to manifest. The boy was bloodied and clawed. His mind was vulnerable and fragile to sudden shifts. Another possession would spell trouble for the duo.

In addition to this, Havve was still harbouring a pocket of information that Strive needed to know. Delivering this sensitive knowledge would be difficult, potential sparking another uproar if he wasn’t careful. Truthfully, now seemed to be the most appropriate time to do so. With all their jaded secrets tumbling out into the open, surely the final piece would help bring the entire thing together. The boy’s life was like a puzzle, one that was nearly complete. 

“Strive,” said Havve, his words slow and cautious. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He sounded hollow, shell-shocked by an overload of information. “I-I want to land. I can hardly stand the skies right now.”

The robot nodded. “As you wish.”

Havve followed his young companion as he made the slow decent towards the rusty sands, choosing to land his ship in the crook of a rock formation. Shielded by the towering forms, this area prevented any of them from being seen by any passing Void ships. Not that it mattered, really. Strive would sense them long before they arrived. Until they were within the vicinity, the two of them were perfectly safe in the deserted environment. 

Charging from his ship, Havve ran towards Strive’s vessel without a second thought. He watched as Strive emerged from his carrier, his shoulders slumped and arms cradled in his bloodied grasp. He looked awful, his ears hanging sombrely by the sides, his eyes puffy and dark. He stumbled forwards, managing to catch himself without Havve’s interference.

“It’s alright,” he assured, taking a deep breath and staggering to his full height. He dragged his tired eyes to his white ship, only to look away in disgust—he refused to call his ship back into his core. This worried Havve, especially since the boy was so roughed up. He would benefit from utilizing the vessel’s healing powers. 

“Will you not call your ship?”

“No,” said Strive, grimacing at the suggestion. “I won’t.”

Havve didn’t like it in the slightest, but he had to accept the boy’s wishes. The robot ushered his young companion towards a nearby rock, urging him to take a much needed break. Strive seemed grateful for a chance to sit, his weakened frame plagued by numerous shivers. The sight tore through Havve’s chest like a bullet, the distressing image causing him great discomfort. 

He despised himself, knowing full well that he was one of the causes for such a reaction. If only he had spoken up. If only they had approached the situation better. If only they had told him in the first place.

“Thank you for coming after me," murmured Strive. "I’m scared to think of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come to my senses.”

Havve nodded; a terrifying thought indeed.

Strive mumbled some more. “The Void . . . it had a hold of me. The things they whispered, the things they planned; I heard it all. I know what they’re planning, Havve. Stars, I even know where the next gateway is.”

“You do?” The robot’s ruby orbs flashed to life. “You were able to gather that much information?”

Strive nodded. “Yes. I could hear everything they said. They talk as a collective force, functioning like a unanimous voice in the shadows. They screech, they howl, they laugh, they cry. . . .” He shook his head in confusion. “They keep calling me the same thing, offering vicious words, only to fall back into gentle tones. ‘Starling, oh little Starling’, that’s what they called me. They act as if they know me, but it’s impossible. It’s . . . I’m impossible. Nothing makes sense, Havve. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I _am_.”

“You are Strive. Simple as that.”

“No, I don’t think it’s that simple. They know me, they—they speak as if I should know them too! How could I know them? The Void is nothing more than a devastating force, one that took the stars from me, one that’s killing my entire planet. The Void took my mother; they’re malicious demons, abominations of the skies. I have no connection to those beasts!”

“You are Strive,” repeated Havve, “but you are also Avida’s child. You are the one with starlight in your eyes.”

Strive looked at his companion, confusion washing over his dull eyes. “I don’t know what you mean. That’s just something my mother would say to me as a child. She’d always comment on my eyes, but I never thought of it as anything more than an affectionate remark—the same goes for the nickname 'Starlight'. She was simply acting as a doting mother should.” 

Something shifted in Havve grasp, the object in question resting behind his back. “There are a lot of things you don’t know, Strive. Avida was full of secrets when we met her, the brunt of it having been spilt during our travels together.” Strive’s ears perked upwards, his eyes narrowed while he listened further. “She was waiting for the right time to tell you, but she never got the chance when the Void struck. She desperately wanted you to know this part about yourself, so she told us as a last resort. In the event that she fell in combat, she wanted us to hold onto her information, hopeful that one day we would cross paths with you. It was very unlikely to begin with, yet here we are. Funny how the cosmos works, no?”

Strive’s eyes widened when Havve revealed what he was hiding: it was the box from his ship, its dainty writing just as perfect as the last time he saw it. The boy took the chest with trembling hands, his grip threatening to loosen with each new quake. “This is the box my mother left, isn’t it? She entrusted it to you.”

Havve nodded, placing his graspers into Strive’s hands as he steadied his unstable quivers. The robot's vitals gave a dull ache. He offered a small smile in the form of his raised jaw. “Yes, she kept it on my ship during our travels. She would often write pages upon pages of notes, though none of us ever knew what she had written. We’d ask about it, but she’d brush us off with a wave of her hand and a click to her tongue. ‘It’s not for you’, she’d chastise. ‘It’s for my Starlight’ ”

The boy gently grazed his fingertips across the wooden exterior, tracing the words that were only meant for him. More than once, he would graze the latch, only to freeze upon contact. Strive inhaled sharply, his core flashing sporadically as he wrestled with his desires. He seemed caught between curiosity and fear—did he really want to know what she had left for him?

“It could be nothing,” cautioned Havve. “She may have written recipes, perhaps even some poetry during her free time. Regardless of its contents, the box belongs to you. She left it in our care. I am here to fulfill one of her wishes; after all these years, I can finally pass it on to its rightful owner.”

“Do you think it’s nothing?” asked Strive, his voice plagued by a wobbly cadence—he clicked the latch beneath his fingers, slowly raising the metal clasp.

Havve nearly laughed, a bubble of sparks tickling his circuits. “Knowing Avida, it certainly holds promise to be important. She wouldn’t fool you with useless fodder. No, she was working on that box for eight years, slaving over her work throughout our many adventures. She cherished her task, hopeful that you’d receive her love from beyond a physical presence.” 

Strive’s eyes began to water when he pulled the lid off the box, the anticipation of viewing the contents sending his emotions into a chaotic spiral. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first, his vision blurring from the tears that obscured his sight. He blinked once, a hot rush of liquid falling down the side of his face. His core ebbed with a mournful glow, its azure light illuminating the gentle edges of the furled paper. There were many sheets, each one coloured with a slightly different shade as their age gaps became apparent. 

The last sight nearly sent Strive over the edge. He sniffled, letting out a choked sob as he ran his fingers over the delicate petals of a single pentrawren. The flower had long since withered in the box, but its beauty would always be timeless in his eyes. Resting peacefully beneath the bloom was the striking handwriting of his mother, her words calling out to him in particular. It read:

_For my Starlight. For my Strive_

 _For my darling little Starling_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's sprinkle ever more devastation, shall we? After the last chapter, I felt that there wasn't enough sadness—here to fix that now. Secrets are out and about, but there's one more lying beneath the surface. You'll just have to wait and see. . . .
> 
> Trust me when I say things will eventually turn up for the Brigade. For now, it's time for heartbreak. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Hope you're enjoying the story thus far! Finishing this fic will be a huge accomplishment for me—since quarantine started, I've practically written an entire book. It's insane! Close to 300 pages on my document . . . and we're not even done yet! 
> 
> Once I am finished here, I look forward to reading the other fics on this site. When writing this story, I chose to go in blind so I wouldn't accidentally play off someone's existing ideas. Yes, I've referred to the official notes by the Starlight Brigade production team (specifically Swift and Doig's Patreon) when fabricating this tale and the characters' traits, but the in between sequences and arcs have been left to my imagination. Until this work is done, I'll have no way of knowing what other people in the fandom have interpreted this story as—I am excited to find out in the near future. 
> 
> That is all! See you all soon and thanks again! :^)


	21. Only the Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say a single lifeform can bring great changes to one's life, or lack thereof. The cosmos works in mysterious ways, its reasons cryptic and unknown as it works its tricky magic behind the scenes. Against astronomical odds, fate always finds a way of bringing valiant souls together, even if they don't realize it themselves.
> 
> Through thick and thin, through stormy weather—together they are stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Heads up—this is an extra long chapter!** Nearly double the usual length, I've essential put two chapters into one. I couldn't find an appropriate point to insert a break, so here we are with a large, two-part backstory! Rocky first encounters, budding friendships, and untold secrets from beyond the veil . . . it all comes full circle, folks.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! I'm hopeful that this long chapter will compensate for the staggered releases I anticipate in the future. Classes start tomorrow and I've no clue how balancing the two will work. I will try my best to keep it consistent! :^)

The airship staggered when it closed in on the darkening stratosphere, its engines noticeably strained as they gave a horrible sputter. The inexperienced pilot watched while her wings began to develop a thin sheet of ice, the frozen menace slowly creeping up on the exterior of the ship. Unable to withstand the elements, the handmade engines began to lose their power. A pitiful burst of light coughed from the exhausted motors, their interior propellers freezing once they touched the frigid skies. 

The pilot gasped in horror when a plume of smoke billowed out of the stalled thrusters—a spark ignited, prompting a fiery disease to spread across the surface. The flames lapped at the white exterior, quickly increasing its treacherous hold on the rest of the vessel. Having never expected such an adverse reaction, the pilot could only stare as shock took hold, followed by hysteric panic at the thought of dying in her ship.

“Stars alive!" she exclaimed, frantically moving her vessel through the air in hopes of snuffing out the flames. She couldn't understand what was happening—she had no way of knowing what was beyond the veil of the planet. She never knew how cold the stratosphere would become upon entry. Her people had no reference for such an event. The last one to try hadn’t even been able to graze the strange phenomenon, calling his ship back before things got too dangerous. The pilot grimaced, her knuckles turning white as she held onto the single control that swayed her ship. 

Her father never had the guts to go further. In light of her current situation, perhaps he had good reason for his hesitance. 

She mumbled numerous curses, trying to fight the frantic breaths that gripped her lungs. Things weren’t looking good—Avida despised the fact that her father may have been right all along.

The Moebian was helpless to slow the decay, a confusing mix of freezing temperatures and malfunctioning fires seizing her vessel. Her ship was as basic as it came, though it was a technical marvel for her people. When she had built the vessel, it hadn’t occurred to her to add any sort of fail safe mechanisms, simply focusing on the promise of breaking past the inaccessible levels of the skies. She had implemented very few buttons, the existing ones holding no purpose other than steering the ship. Now, they were utterly useless. The engines gave one final shudder, ripping themselves apart in a jarring explosion. 

Avida gripped the controls with all her might while the ship spiralled through the air, zipping upwards, downwards, and to the sides in a dizzying waltz. She hissed when she lost control of her vessel, her eyes glued shut in preparation for the end. Within moments, an intense blue hue overtook her carrier, her core's light nearly drowning out the devilish orange that crept across her ship. In a few moments, she would surely succumb to the fires.

Her vessel was claimed by frigid talons on the outside, yet the interior hull was beginning to heat at alarming speeds. She bit back a wail of despair and grit her teeth in frustration, her eyes narrowed while she glared at the atrocious fires. She felt like a fool, her blind courage unintentionally leading her to an early grave. Her father had been right, his words echoing in her mind like a contemptuous sneer.

_This is suicide, did you hear what I said?!_

Avida growled wretchedly, her breath escaping her as the oxygen levels began to thin. Her throat was tight, her lungs aching and begging for suitable air. She was forced to cough through the smoke that seeped through the cracks, juggling between the haze and the terribly thin air that inhabited these strange heights. Of all the ways to die, she found her current dilemma the most insulting. She had found comfort in the skies, more so than the average being of the cosmos. For her to perish beneath their blank realm was offensive, mortifying in every sense. 

If they saw her now, they would surely be crying out in despair, weeping in wake of her demise. While she couldn’t bear the thought of her friends watching her die, she couldn’t deny how alone she felt beneath their tainted domain. The skies were empty, ravaged by the Void’s twisted grasp. With no one to comfort her, Avida felt a woeful cry escape her chest, the heartbreaking song falling on deaf ears. 

The stars were gone. They were taken, claimed, violated by a force much stronger than their own. Avida promised to bring them back, yet her fantasy had quickly crumbled around her. She was in no position to touch the skies for herself—perhaps she was never even close in the first place. She heaved pitifully, her core aching when she beheld the darkness above her.

She had failed. She couldn’t find them, she couldn’t bring back her celestial companions. Their voices were a treasured gift, each one possessing a unique personality for her to understand and befriend. The stars were more than glimmer lights from above—they were her confidants, her lifelong comforts. For them to be gone was unbearable. She felt like a part of her life had been taken by the Void, stolen by its overwhelming force. Avida snarled at the abyss—she cursed the Void’s existence with every fibre of her being.

Stealing their celestial guardians was a horrendous act in itself, especially when she saw the empty space where her child’s star was supposed to reside. Of all the ones to be taken, that specific star was the hardest to accept. It couldn’t be gone, it just couldn’t. What would happen to it? What would happen to her child? What would happen to her own Starlight as time passed?

She knew not if they could hear her from beyond the veil, but she didn’t care. Avida’s cry tore across the empty stratosphere, her voice carrying through the space she would soon welcome as her grave. “Forgive me, I’ve failed you. All of you.” She sniffed sadly, falling to her knees and loosening her grip on the controls. She placed her head against the lever, letting out one last sigh as her thoughts were flooded with the beautiful image of her son, his eyes holding the same radiance as the stars above. “I’m sorry, Strive. My little Starlight. . . . Oh, my little Strive. How I’ve disappointed you.”

Avida’s shoulders were wracked with shivers once she accepted her fate, sobbing quietly in the company of the blank abyss. 

Her eyes had been closed, but there was no mistaking the sound of an explosion by her side. She was ready for the heat to char her skin, engulfing her flesh in their insidious tendrils. Pain was expected before death, especially in her current situation. If it wasn’t the blast that did her in, then the frost was sure to freeze her to the core, followed by the dread of slowly suffocating in the thin atmosphere. In the event that she somehow survived each situation, the fall would definitely kill her. No matter the cause, Avida was sure her time had come.

She heard the explosion, but didn’t feel it. Temperatures had definitely changed, but it wasn’t unbearably cold like her prediction. It was doable, unusually comfortable too. Avida inhaled a shaky breath, surprised by how freely her lungs took in the stable air. She swallowed dryly, perplexed by the lack of death she was feeling. The woman slowly opened her eyes, convinced that she would find herself tumbling wildly through the air. Instead, she found herself on solid ground, spared from the whistling winds that hassled her vessel moments ago.

What she found in its place was a curious tempo, the rhythmic drumming filling every inch of the strange hull she resided in.

Avida whipped her head around the unknown environment, heaving greedy gasps of air in order to calm her rising panic. Strange lights flashed across the interior and illuminated the numerous crates that lined the space. The room was rather dull, lacking any sort of comfort to its metallic appearance. A dreadful green crept across the walls, mirroring the building sensation of nausea within her stomach. Something about this place felt very uncomfortable. Almost unnatural.

Throughout her hasty scan, she noticed that the persistent drumming had begun to tamper down, its function a complete mystery to the frazzled passenger; by this point, It had nearly stopped. A sudden click caught her attention, prompting her to look over at her side. She gripped her wavering core, her eyes going wide once she discovered the source of the manufactured noise. 

She screamed. Stars alive, how she _screamed._

Terror-stricken, Avida scrambled to her feet and pressed herself against the nearest wall, her entire body consumed by tremors when she beheld the silver demon. She locked eyes with the hexipoddle monster and watched its horrifying orbs slice into her figure without remorse, its sinister gaze dragging across every part of her cowering form. The beast took a step forward, its movements stiff and unnatural. 

“Stay back!” she barked, shifting her position against the wall as the distance between them gradually closed. The abomination made no effort to stop, edging closer to the woman without any hesitance. Avida whimpered when she beheld the monster’s jagged fangs, its metal teeth seeming to blend together with its sharp jaw. An awful symphony of whirrs consumed the silver beast, its gaze narrowing as it neared the frightened woman. The creature raised one of its six arms and produced a razor-sharp blade in its chosen grasp. Avida paled, her reflection perfectly mirrored on the blade's surface. 

With a harrowed yelp, she ducked beneath the creature’s legs, narrowly avoiding the weapon as it grazed the empty air. She rolled on the floor, swiftly picking herself back up and dashing for the crates in the back. Gasping for breath and terrified beyond belief, she dove between two of the towering crates, pressing herself into the small crevice that was provided. She covered her core, trying to hide the intense light that yowled from her chest. Her vitals were pounding in distress, her ears taut and trembling as she listened for her attacker’s approaching footsteps. Her eyes were coated in a blurry shine—each blink released a trail of rolling tears. 

Stifling a gasp, Avida held her breath and watched the creature’s bloody eyes scan the boxes, its gaze nearly as sharp as the weapon it wielded. Its beady orbs surveyed the cargo, trying to catch a glimpse of its mysterious stowaway. Avida prayed for the creature to lose interest, begging for it to move on in its search. She rolled herself into a compact ball, tucking her body into a protective sphere in the futile hope that she’d be able to disappear. If there was ever a day where she wished to be invisible, now would certainly be the time. 

One of the most appalling things she had discovered about this beast was its inability to breathe like a living being. Her sensitive ears were focused on each sound the monster produced, honing in on every slight movement the beast made. She could hear the persistent drumming that rocked its form, yet there didn’t seem to be an intake of air, nor the exhale one would expect. The woman shuddered, feeling disgusted beneath its soulless assault. 

Suddenly, a thunderous tempo rocked the entire hull—the beast seemed excited by something. Avida dared to look upwards, only to come face-to-face with the ghastly creature’s maw. The woman jumped to her feet instantly, scrambling out of the way when the beast sent its weapon crashing to the ground. Sparks erupted from the floor when the knife scrapped against the metal, the hideous shrieking momentarily sending Avida’s vision into a spiral. She clutched her ears in pain, falling to her knees as she succumbed to the unbearable squeal. 

The creature must have noticed her weakness. It purposely scratched the blade against the floor a second time, seeming to revel in her agony. Avida howled, shaking her head and praying for the torture to end. During her hysterics, the creature grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and yanked her upwards without any trouble. She flailed wildly in the air, her eyes narrowed in hatred as she fought back the assault. 

“Let me go, you bastard!” she cursed, squirming uselessly within the creature’s grasp. She clawed at the beast’s tough exterior, wracking her nails against the impenetrable skin. She swayed in the air, moving herself so she could angle her kicks towards the monster’s ugly jaw. Her boot managed to collide with the metal visage. Unfortunately, the solid impact caused her foot to throb in protest. Avida hissed, growing desperate with each passing second. As a last resort, she bit down on the beast’s hand, uselessly grinding her teeth against the impossible material. 

The metal beast had enough of her. It shook her entire form, slamming her against the hull’s walls with brutish force. A strangled wheeze escaped her the moment she collided with the surface. Avida gasped for air when the beast pressed her to the wall with increasing force, its hand wrapped firmly around her throat. Her eyes widened in horror as the monster raised its blade to her core, preparing to plunge the weapon into her vitals. Azure light flooded the environment and mirrored Avida's terror, her vibrancy managing to illuminate the horrible features of her assailant. 

The creature’s eyes bore into her without an ounce of familiarity, its scarlet pits piercing her soul like the blade in its hands. Avida flinched in anticipation for her demise, her trembles rocking both herself and the monster’s grasp. Never had she encountered something so foul—never would she get the chance to see something beyond her immediate grave.

Avida waited. She stopped breathing, ready for her life to seep from her body in a bloodied mess. She waited, but nothing came. Slowly, she began opening her eyes, staring into the creature's desolate gaze with a silent question. 

It seemed frozen, stuck in a catatonic position mid-strike. Avida’s chest seized tightly, her breathing strained and faint while the seconds dragged on. Unsure of what to do, she tried to wiggle her way out of its grasp, oscillating herself in order to loosen the hold around her neck. It proved to have no effect, the creature’s grip persevering despite its unresponsive state. Without warning, the beast released its prey, sending Avida crashing to the ground and sputtering for precious air. She cradled her bruising neck, claiming oxygen in greedy gasps—her chest felt like it was being ripped apart with each wretched cough, almost as if her windpipe were still being crushed beneath the creature's claws. 

For no explicit reason, the beast turned its attention to the front of the hull, marching dutifully towards the chair it originated from. Cautious of every movement the vile creature made, Avida kept her eyes glued to the lumbering figure as it sat down without a word, its multiple arms raised in a curious fashion. Suddenly, a clamorous tempo rocked the entire shell, its sudden intrusion a hellish addition to the woman’s throbbing ears. 

Taking her chance, Avida raised herself on wobbly feet, sifting her hands against the wall and edging towards the back of the room for protection. She lowered herself into a tight corner, shaking pitifully as she cowered in her makeshift hiding place. She had a clear view of the monstrosity up front, her eyes dull and unblinking while she stared down her killer. 

Well, technically it never became her killer, but she refused to see it as anything else. Surely this beast would finish the job. If not now, then certainly sometime later.

For the time being, its motives were unknown, much like the environment she was currently being held prisoner in. Avida dragged her exhausted gaze around the curious space, remaining extremely sensitive to each new sensation that surrounded her. Everything was foreign, advanced well beyond the understanding of her home planet. The various controls appeared high tech, serving functions she couldn’t possibly understand. It was all new, unbearably shiny, and incredibly terrifying. 

Hunched in her corner, Avida's shock slowly dissolved, making way for a typhoon of unpredictable emotions. She was confused, aching, and frightened beyond belief. She had no idea how she even ended up in this ship to begin with—she assumed it was some type of vessel, the distinct sound of sizzling engines providing her with this educated guess. One moment she was falling to her death, the next she was trapped with her soon-to-be murderer on course to an undisclosed location. How had something this disastrous happen in the first place? 

She should be thankful that she was still alive, but it was hard to feel safe in the presence of such a terrible creature. Why was it provoked by her presence? More importantly, what made it decide to stop its assault? The creature was obviously driven by a silent blood lust, the murderous glint in its eyes a clear indicator of how it viewed its sudden passenger—Avida shuddered when she remembered the icy sensation that ran through her veins when they locked eyes. It had been so hellbent on her mutilation that it seemed like nothing would stop it. 

But something did, and Avida wanted to know what had saved her. Or who.

As time progressed, she tried to keep her vision trained on the beast in front of her, yet her body’s reserves were quickly betraying her as exhaustion took hold. She fought back the darkness for as long as she could, but the inescapable force slowly persuaded her into the realm of unconsciousness. No matter how much she resisted, a reluctant slumber swayed her into a relaxed state, her worries momentarily forgotten once she drifted into the land of fretful dreams.

During her unwelcomed rest, the woman was oblivious to the vessel’s sudden jump into the Bridge, its pilot following their silent orders through telepathic means. The creature kept his sights set on the location they were travelling towards, pushing back his ravenous protocol for the time being. The creature’s circuits itched for a chance to tear apart the one who had invaded his domain, his graspers tense in anticipation for the promise of delightful bloodshed. Oh yes, Havve was excited for a chance to dirty his blade, but he wasn’t sure what his partner would think of the idea. How annoying.

It would seem that Sung had sensed his sudden shift the moment that stowaway appeared on his ship. Havve hated how he always seemed to know of his intent, reading his desires as if he were an open book. Alas, such was the price for sharing a link between minds. The robot could act in regards to what was written in his instructions, so long as his partner didn’t stop him before he fulfilled his primal protocol. 

Unfortunately for him, Sung had chosen to intervene this one time. This made Havve bristle in artificial annoyance. His partner never cared about what he did in his free time, hardly batting an eye whenever he went on the occasional murder spree. Sung wasn’t one to care for such insignificant lifeforms, so why should he now? What harm could a little blood do? Besides stain his vessel, Havve saw no downside to giving in to his savage inputs.

Whether he liked it or not, Sung had given the command to stop his assault. It was odd, but Havve was given no choice but to comply. His partner decided it would be best to travel to some planet where they could drop off the feeble creature, leaving it to fend for itself in a rare act of kindness on their part. They weren’t ones who dabbled in pointless connections with other beings, nor did they much care for their well-being after the fact. With most beings possessing laughably short lifespans, their existence beyond a single encounter was of little importance to the stoic duo. 

Perhaps his partner was driven by curiosity, intrigued by the being’s sudden entrance—their appearance hardly made any sense to begin with. 

Before any of this had happened, he and Sung had taken a quick jump through the Bridge out of sheer boredom, the Wastelands proving to be far too bland for their tastes. It was bizarre, really. Usually the Wastelands were vibrant with the glow of the surrounding stars, yet it had all disappeared in the blink of an eye. Havve found this incredibly strange, as did his partner on the other end. Despite the peculiar phenomenon, Sung thought it best to jump to a different point of the cosmos so they could avoid the sudden dreariness that plagued the debris fields. Surely it was a fluke on that part of the cosmos—stars didn’t just disappear. 

As they rocketed through the Bridge, something strange caught Havve’s sensors. The invading forces possessed no proper signals, their mysterious existence something the robot had yet to encounter for himself. He didn’t recognize their readings, nor the jagged shapes that crashed through the outer layer of the Bridge. One of the black vessels had smashed into his ship, sending him tumbling into a recovery tunnel. 

Recovery tunnels were viewed as a fail safe in the event that a pilot lost control during flight. While incredibly rare, it could still happen on occasion, be it poor flying skills or the sudden malfunction of a vessel’s equipment. Regardless of the reason, the recovery tunnels functioned as an alternate route to your destination, guiding the ship through a different path that would eventually lead the pilot to their end goal. This type of travel would take a little longer since the ship would be dragged along the back roads of space, forced to take a path through uncharted territories. 

It was possible that their previous Bridge had opened up at the exact location the stowaway was positioned, swooping in and colliding with the being by pure chance. Instances like this were considered one in a trillion, though they were not unheard of. The circumstances for such a rare event were unbelievably specific, the occurrence often left to blind fate with how impossible it tended to be. Somehow, Havve had basically won the lottery a thousand time over, but it certainly didn’t feel like anything good. 

He was forbidden from killing the creature—how was that something to celebrate?

The tendrils of their current Bridge began to break apart, revealing the unknown terrain below the clouds. Havve scanned the emerald skies, looking for his partner's familiar carrier. His ship’s sensors indicated that he was near, close enough to make a connection. The machine kept his gaze trained on the approaching terrain, his words laced with an uninterested drawl. “Where are we dropping the being?”

“That depends. What does it look like?” Sung sounded as impassive as the robot felt. “Aquatic? Winged? More than one appendage? Is the damn thing on fire?”

The robot looked back at the dozing creature, scanning its features in order to gather a better description. “Blue, but does not appear to be an aquatic species. No wings, but their ears are curiously feathered—much more sensitive than most creatures. Appendages are coherent with the average humanoid lifeform. No adverse elemental traits.” Havve looked at the being’s small frame and delicate features, adding one last description for his partner. “The being appears to be female.”

Sung paused on the other end, his mind mulling about with a bored hum. “Doesn’t sound familiar. No reading on her kind?”

“Negative. Species unknown.”

“Well, that’s just great. We managed to pick up some oblivious hitchhiker.” The doctor sighed in annoyance. “We’ll drop her off on a patch of land; it seems like the safest bet. I’ll explain where she is and tell her to sit tight while she calls for a rescue team. Someone will find her eventually, though it’s none of my concern whether or not it ends up being her own species.”

Havve nodded his head at the proposal, though there was one element he needed to mention. “She appears to lack a Lexicomm. Communication would be useless at this stage.”

Sung let out a large sigh, the exhale morphing into a fed up growl. “Of course she doesn’t have one. Why would it ever be that simple for us? Do you still have the spares on your ship?” The robot confirmed his supply. “Good. Make sure she’s rigged with one before we land. I’ve no patience in dealing with a possible struggle. I’ll leave that part to you.”

“Understood.” Havve cut his eyes across the mysterious woman, confident in his ability to best her in combat. She was weak and frightened, a feeble nuisance he was forced to carry on his ship. He’d get the Lexicomm suited whether she liked it or not. “It would have been much easier if you let me do away with her. I find it odd that you stopped me. You have never cared for what type of blood I shed in my free time. I’m curious as to why you intervened.”

Sung’s voice possessed an amused lift, a smirk most likely evident on his lips. “Normally, I wouldn’t care what stains you dress yourself with, but I’d much prefer if it wasn’t on your ship. You may not have a sense of smell, but I sure do. The deathly stench of a corpse would rot away at your circuits, causing a permanent scent to fester in your vessel. Out in the open? Sure, go ahead and mutilate a few lifeforms out of my sight. In your ship is where I draw the line. You know I hate seeing dead things. Besides,” he hummed thoughtfully, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by her. I’d like to know where she came from at least. It seems unusually cruel to take her from her realm and kill her without a reason. She probably doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“I can confirm this. She seemed frightened of my ship, probably the first time she's seen one that advanced. I’m inclined to believe that her species lacks the capabilities of travel beyond their planet. In addition, I believe she is relatively harmless—she possesses no visible weapons other than her fists, feet, and teeth.”

“Teeth?” Sung seemed baffled by this statement.

“Yes. She attempted to bite me during our encounter. She put up quite the fight, too. Kicking, flailing, running around the hull like a wild animal. It was like dealing with vermin, a pest with a foul mouth—or what I can only assume was a series of curses. Until you see her for yourself, I am unable to understand her language.”

The robot could hear his partner scoff in his mind, amused by his description of the strange woman. “Interesting. I’ve yet to see a lifeform counter you with all their might. Usually they’d be cowering the moment they laid eyes on you.”

“She’s not that great," corrected Havve. "She’s currently huddled in a corner near the supply crates. Her eyes were trained on me for the longest time, but it would seem that she’s fallen asleep. Quite foolish, really. I could end her life in a second.”

“I know you could. But not this time, alright? I want to meet this stowaway before you indulge in any of your murder fantasies. I’ve been stuck in a perpetual state of boredom for who knows how long. Let me switch the routine around for a bit.” The doctor paused for a second, fiddling with something on his end. “I’ve found a good spot. Make sure she’s secured by the time we land.”

Havve nodded, dragging his scarlet eyes across the sleeping figure, a wicked glint cutting across his gaze. “Understood.”  


  
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Avida struggled in her metal restraints, shaking her head frantically as she tried to loosen the strange device in her ear. It had been idiotic to let her guard down in the ship and she clearly paid the price. One moment she’s secure in the bliss of her unconscious mind, the next she’s being tackled to the group and forced out of the ship, wrapped in the cold appendages of her despicable attacker. The woman howled in frustration and attempted to kick the metal beast, caring not if her foot broke as a result.

She was unspeakably furious, though her irate state was just a cover for how terrified she actually felt. Her core flashed rapidly as the creature walked onto the unknown land, greeting what appeared to be an acquaintance of his. Avida narrowed her eyes in defiance, spitting harsh words in their direction. “Damned brute! Let go of me!” She looked towards the new creature in front of her, baring her teeth while she spat in disgust. “Two of you, huh? Call off your pet, coward! I'll make this a fight you won't forget!”

The tall being said nothing, keeping its visored gaze trained on her struggling form. Avida growled in irritation, feeling exposed beneath its malicious glare. “Got nothing to say, you stoic bastard?”

“Oh, no. I’ve plenty to say. I’m just waiting for you to quiet down before I waste my breath.” Avida’s eyes widened when the creature spoke her native tongue, its dialect matching perfectly with her own pronunciation. She glared at the mysterious being, a bubble of distrust blooming in her chest. “In case you’re wondering," huffed the being, "you can understand me because of the thing we put in your ear. Ever heard of a Lexicomm?”

“No, and I don’t really care." Avida scowled, shifting her weight in the metal beast’s grasp. "Call off your pet, cone head. Release me!” Her core became vibrant in her rage, its azure light filtering through the freakish creature’s arms. 

The being seemed unamused by her harsh words. “First of all—he’s not my pet. He’s my partner. Second,” he sneered, gesturing to his artificial companion, “you’re in no position to bargain, woman. Just shut up and listen to what I’m going to tell you, alright?”

“Like hell I will!” Avida pushed against her restraints with as much force as she could muster, managing to wiggle her feet between a weakened part of her captor's grasp. She bent her knees to her chest and kicked the restraints back, creating a small space for her to slip through. The beast looked taken aback by her sudden escape, an emotion that was mirrored by the curiously clothed being in front of her. 

She watched the man's face shift from surprise to shock as she barrelled into him, swiftly flinging him to the ground by the edge of his red scarf. 

The two figures tumbled through the blades of grass, each one scrambling to get a hold of the other. The coned being was certainly stronger, but Avida had the element of surprise on her hands. Plus, the ungodly amounts of rage that coursed through her veins gave her an enormous boost of adrenaline. She pinned the larger being down to the ground, lodging her scraped knees into his chest. She kept one hand wrapped firmly around his neck and raised the other above his head, grasping a rock in her trembling palm. 

Avida snarled at the being beneath her, refusing to comply with his unknown plans. She was overtaken by sporadic breaths, her core illuminating the villain's stupefied features. She wanted to rip that aberrant moustache off his insufferable face. 

“Get me off this planet, now!" she screamed. "I don’t have time for your twisted intentions! I’ve better things to do than tangle myself with you lot!”

The being’s lips twitched upwards in a snarky grin, seeming unbothered by her threats. “And what do you plan to do, huh? Take us hostage? I think you’ll find that you’re the one who’s at _our_ mercy.”

What did he—?

Avida gasped when the metal beast crashed into her, using one of its arms to throw her to the side with ease. The impact sent her tumbling across the clearing, a pained howl clawing its way through her chest. She rose to her feet, only to stumble due to her injured side; unbearable amounts of pain to began to darken her vision. She grimaced, heaving wretchedly as she tried to regain her composure. 

Oh, how she loathed these terrible creatures. 

She watched the orange being rise to his feet, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek. The cut was tiny, but it still left a visible red mark on his peachy skin. The being huffed in annoyance and glowered at her hunched form. 

“How idiotic can you be?" he scoffed. "Don’t you see that there’s no point in fighting us? You’re outnumbered and pathetically under-powered. Do yourself a favour and stay down for one damn second.”

“Shut up! I’ve nothing to say to you!” Avida shot daggers at the two creatures, her glare holding a potent level of toxicity. “You’re the ones who brought me here in the first place. Your little Hogan was the one who tried to kill me!”

The being tilted his head at the strange word, seeming taken aback by the insult. “Hogan?” he asked. 

“That metal monster! It’s like a terrible beast; a horrible Hogan!” Avida hissed in the demon's direction, shivering in disgust at its hostile aura. “It wants to finish the job. I know it does.”

“With how troublesome you’ve become, I’m starting to think he should have.” The being crossed his arms, his patience growing thin. “Do you know why I decided to land here? It was so you could have a chance to recover and get back to whatever blasted part of the cosmos you came from. Someone is bound to find you eventually. You should be thanking us for our kindness.”

“ _Thanking_ you?! You’ve done nothing but cause me grief!” Avida screeched. “I don’t have time for any of this! I need to get back, I need to find my ship. It’s—” she froze, realizing that her vessel had been reduced to a pile of smouldering particles. Had she still been there, she would have perished along with it. She was alive, but at what cost? Now she was stranded with these two lunatics. “It’s gone. Stars, my vessel was destroyed. . . .”

The being smiled, his voice haughty and obnoxious. “I guess you should be grateful, after all. Without our kindness, you’d certainly be dead.”

“Quiet! I’m not going to thank you when that’s all you expect!" Avida retaliated. "If you want my praise for your insincere actions, then forget it! I can tell that your emotions are tainted. This wasn’t from the goodness of your core, you’re driven by other motifs. What do you want, cone head? Did you really think I’d feed that arrogant ego of yours?”

The being growled in annoyance, his hatred for the woman beginning to grow. His chest felt heavy in reaction to her claims, a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He pushed it aside, refusing to bend beneath her insults. “How about you get my name right first, huh? Stop calling me ‘cone head’, my name is Sung. Get it right.”

“Sung?" Avida scoffed. "I think I prefer cone head. Personally, I think 'jackass' seems to fit you better.” She revelled in his seething posture, offering a sarcastic smile as compensation. “The name’s Avida. _Get it right,_ ” she mocked, replicating Sung’s pompous tone. 

“Listen here, Avida, and listen well.” Sung had enough of this irritating lifeform, finding himself swamped with unknown emotions and pesky feelings. In their short time together, this fiery woman had managed to insult him, kick him to the ground, and humiliate him with her keen observations. Of course she should be thanking them, every pitiful being did. They were supposed to be cowering, begging for a chance to be saved, and crawling on their hands and knees once gratitude took hold. They weren’t supposed to defy these expectations. They should know their place.

“You’re stranded on an uninhabited planet without a means of defending yourself," he hissed. "Judging by your stupidity and the way you marvelled at our simple technology, I suspect your species has yet to break the space barrier." Sung held his hands behind his back and began pacing, glowering at the woman on the ground. "I could leave you here until the end of your days, destined to never see another intelligible lifeform. You might survive by using the land as sustenance, but for how long? Not only that, but could your species even survive this new type of nourishment? For all we know, you could be poisoned the moment you dare to sample a piece of food. The elements could prove fatal, a creature could pluck you from the shadows and devour you whole—face it, your life is in our hands.”

Avida listened. She listened well. Despite hearing Sung’s dreadful words, she refused to sink below their levels. 

“What gives you the right to claim superiority over others? Stars alive, how can you be so selfish? Claiming that my life is in your hands—get over yourself. My life belongs to no one but myself.” A fevered rage began to fester in her core. “What life do I have left to live if I don’t get back on course? I need to get off this planet. I need to bring back the stars!”

“The stars?” Sung’s voice was skeptical. “What about them? They’re just glimmering dots in the sky. They never went anywhere.”

The woman’s eyes widened incredulously. “Have you not seen it?! Those black ships, those jagged monsters, they ripped the stars from the cosmos! They’ve taken our starlight and left us with nothing!” She looked up at the hazy green sky, its foreign colour an unusual palette to observe. This place was nothing like Moebius, yet it held one similarity: the skies were horribly blank. “Look up there! Do you not see how empty it is?”

Sung glanced up at the sky, as did his companion. He hummed, seeming less invested than the woman. “Okay, so they've disappeared. But what does it matter? They never had much of a purpose to begin with.”

Avida saw red. She raised herself to her full height, forcing herself to stay upright through the pain. “Their purpose is unimaginable to a cold creature such as yourself. They’ve given my people life, they serve as our guides through the darkness, their voices carry through the night like a beautiful symphony! If my people will suffer in their absence, then surely the rest of the cosmos will too! Don't you care about what will happen to millions of lifeforms? Are you really that jaded?”

The man shrugged, seeming baffled by her intensity. “What do a few billion lives matter to me? Everyone is destined to die eventually, so what’s so bad about the process being sped up? Life will continue. Well, at least mine will. Havve’s too.” Sung had the audacity to stifle a laugh, his words frighteningly bitter. “We’ve seen millennia of darkness already. What’s a few more disasters to add to the total?”

“You’re unbelievable.” Avida bit back tears of frustration, shaking her head in disbelief. How could one be so heartless? She tore her eyes away from the despicable man, setting her sights on the unknown terrain. She began to hobble in the opposite direction, refusing to be associated with the duo any longer than she had to.

“Where are you going?” asked Sung, a curious lift in his voice.

“Away from you!” yelled Avida, clutching her side as she begged for the pain to subside. “There’s no point in reasoning with unreasonable beings like yourselves.”

Sung cocked his head, casting a sideways glance to his robotic companion. He could let him go savage. The woman would be helpless to prevent the onslaught of his partner, reduced to a snivelling coward at the promise of her painful demise. He could allow it—a single snap of his fingers would suffice. It would be so easy.

And yet, Sung motioned for Havve to stay still when he found himself running up the injured woman, keeping his pace slow so he could match her strained steps. He blinked, his mind working harder than usual as he tried to understand what he was feeling. It felt cruel to end her life now that they had the chance to talk. Most beings they came across were all the same; weak, compliant, and repeating the same series of pitiful thanks. Their cowardice left no room for meaningful conversation. But Avida had none. Instead, she fought back, cutting into them without any remorse.

It had enraged him, but it also lured him in. He was intrigued, fascinated by the woman’s hatred for them. Everyone he had come across would thank him, viewing him as some sort of savoir. Avida refused, and Sung quite enjoyed the surprising response. He wanted to know more about her odd personality. What made this feisty being tick?

“Where are you from, anyway? Neither myself or Havve recognized your species.” His words poked and prodded the injured woman, paying no heed to her growing annoyance.

“What’s it matter to you? Aren’t I just another insignificant lifeform?”

“Yes, but I find myself wanting to know more. You should be flattered by my interest in you. I never take the time to get to know the beings we cross paths with.” He hadn’t meant for his words to come off as malicious, but Avida sure saw them that way. 

She scowled at the man, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “There you go again, thinking that I’ll thank you for your hollow deeds. Well, guess what—that’s not going to happen. I only thank those who deserve it. You certainly deserve none of it.”

Another pang hit his chest, the curious sensation causing him to falter for a moment. Her words held some power over him, but he didn’t know why. What was he feeling from her applaud tone? “You didn’t answer my question. Where are you from?”

“If you must know, my home is called Moebius,” her core gave a sorrowful glow when she remembered her planet. “I’m a Moebian. Presumably the first to leave the stratosphere.”

“Moebius? Never heard of it. Must be one of the planets that’s way behind the rest of us.” He remained oblivious to Avida’s piercing scowl. “From what I understand, you just took off when the stars were stolen? Why? Why not accept that they were gone?”

“Because I’m not a coward, that’s why! When your life is being torn from your grasp, would you just accept it and die without a fuss? No, you fight with everything you’ve got in order to claim what’s been stolen. If not for yourself, then for the ones you care about.” 

Sung gave a thoughtful hum, trying to decipher the woman’s odd speech. “Fighting for others, huh? Can’t say I’m too familiar with that concept. Havve and I have been on our own for quite some time. Since we’re both at equal levels, we see no need to fight for each other. We're practically the same entity.” The man glanced at the strange Moebian, taking note of her increasingly staggered steps. “Who are you fighting for?” he asked plainly.

“You could never understand my dedication," Avida scowled, feeling insulted by the man’s lack of empathy. "I shouldn’t even waste my breath telling you.”

“You might as well. It’s not like you’re going anywhere. I can keep pace all day. You? Not so much.” He gestured to her wobbly stance, stating everything matter-of-factly. “Humour me, Avida. I want to know why you braved the cosmos without any hesitation.”

“Bastard,” she mumbled under her breath. She was incredibly fed up with this man, wishing that he would just leave her alone. He had been so uninterested at the start of their encounter. Now, she couldn’t shake him as he followed her every move, using his mobility as an unfair advantage. She sighed, allowing herself to reveal some of her hidden woes. “Fine, I’ll tell you. I don’t care about what happens to me, so long as my mission is fulfilled in the end. Of course I don’t want to die, but that’s of little concern when I think about the bigger picture. If I do nothing, we’d all die regardless. I made the choice to change our fates—I promised to bring back our starlight

“The stars are more than just glimmer dots that hang overhead; they give my people life. Our lands rely on stardust to grow and flourish, my species thrives beneath their watch. Many choose to see the stars as nothing more than splatters in the sky, but I know there’s more to them then that. Stars alive, I’ve heard it all for myself. They’re not just lifeless sparks—they live and breathe as much as we do. They’re my companions, they always have been.”

Sung was taken aback by the claim. “They talk to you? But, that’s not possible. You must be mistaken,” he laughed.

“No, I’m not. When you’ve been able to hear them for your entire life, you’ll come to realize how alive they truly are.” Avida shook her head miserably as she remembered her tricky youth. “Your reaction is the same as everyone else—no one ever believed me, not even my own father. After realizing that no one possessed the same gift as me, I stopped mentioning it, my only confidants being the ones nobody could hear.

“They’d have such interesting conversations. Intriguing personalities, too. There were some who beamed in each other's company, while others leaned away from the abrasive twinkle of another. Their stories would make me laugh, keeping my spirits raised during the darkest points of my life. They’ve given me many gifts, one of which I hold dear to my core.” She cradled her gem, the azure flames seeping through her fingers. She smiled sadly. “I want them to come back. They need to come back. Otherwise . . . I don’t know what will happen to him.”

“Him?” Sung was thoroughly invested now, much to his surprise. He had heard of some strange tales during his travels, but nothing as far fetched as what Avida claimed. She was impossible. A being straight out of legends. This woman was special, and for the first time in his timeless life, Sung acknowledged it. 

“Yes. For him. For my little Starlight.” Avida shook her head wretchedly, cupping her mouth as she bit back a sob. “They’re so important to him, more so than he could ever know. He always tries to reach for them, calling to them and promising to join their eternal dance. His eyes are so beautiful. They hold the stars—they still do. It’s probably the last in the cosmos. He doesn’t know how treasured he is. He knows how much I love him, but he doesn’t realize that the stars love him just as much."

Avida huffed as exhaustion gnawed at her bones. “I won’t tell you any more of my life, not yet. But I will tell you this—my child means the world to me. The stars gave him to me, so I must return their favour. I refuse to let my companions be violated by the darkness, by that dastardly Void. I’m taking them back once and for all.” She lowered her voice into a snarl. “You can try to stop me, you can laugh at my insignificant life; go ahead, I don’t care anymore. But I vow to find a way to fulfill my promise. Even if I’m left stranded on this planet, I’ll find a way. I owe it to all of them to prevail against the odds.” 

“Avida—”

“Enough. I’ve answered your questions. Just leave me alone.” Her uneven gait staggered, seeming increasingly unsteady as she trudged forward. Despite her obvious discomfort, she refused to falter. “Stars alive, let me advance without your patronizing retorts. I already know what you think of my foolish desires.” 

Sung felt his heart squeeze as a wave of foreign emotions crashed into his tightening chest. Her words had managed to affect him, her pure desires penetrating his stoic morals. How could she put herself in such a position? She willingly threw herself into the unknown with the world on her back. No, the entire universe. Her drive stemmed from a single source, fuelled by the child she left back on her planet. Apparently, this child meant more to her than her own life, his existence having some connection to the stars themselves.

The stars? Alive? Sung had never heard of such a thing. And yet, he believed everything the woman was saying, her passionate vow rocking him into certainty. This woman had a goal, a valiant one at that. She believed in the future and the possibilities it held—she was the complete opposite of himself. He had never looked forward to another day. He had been drifting for as long as he could remember.

While he had Havve as his loyal companion, the robot’s existence was equally meaningless in his presence. The two of them were inseparable, serving as both a blessing and curse when their existence was built upon nothing. What went on in the cosmos was none of their concern—nothing ever was. They were timeless, undying, undeserving of their breath. 

What would happen if that all changed?

Sung glanced at the injured being beside him, a twang of guilt grappling his chest. He had caused her pain, he had sent Havve to injure her without a second thought—her pain was his problem; it soon became his concern. He was trying to process his emotions as they came, addressing them in an unorganized fashion. How should he handle this situation? What was the right response? Was he supposed to stop her or let her walk herself into exhaustion? He felt lost, marooned in the centre of a torrential ocean. He shuddered, feeling claustrophobic by his uncertainties.

What should he do?

The worried doctor jumped in surprise when the ground shook beside him, the woman having suddenly disappeared from his view. He looked downwards, stifling a gasp when he saw her unconscious form, her breathing shallow and nearly undetectable as she fought for her life. Sung stood frozen in place, frantically searching his mind for the most appropriate response. Should he check her vitals? Should he just leave her and forget about her existence? She was a single lifeform, insignificant like the rest. Her death wouldn’t mean much, there’d be no consequences if he walked away now. No one would miss her, no one but her child. The very same one she was determined to fight for.

“Oh, for the love of—Havve!” Sung crouched beside the woman, gently shifting her arm across his shoulder. She wasn’t the same height as him, though her wispy white locks managed to reach just above his shoulder. He could have easily carried her in his arms, but he feared the damage around her rib cage. He couldn’t risk putting pressure in the wrong place; she’d surely die without proper airflow. Havve must have done some serious damage beneath the surface. Sung let out a slew of quiet curses, regretting all the horrible things he had nearly allowed his companion to do. 

Despite his new self-loathing attitude, he continued to drag the peculiar woman towards their ships, calling out for his companion’s assistance. “Havve! Get my medical supplies! We’re definitely not letting this one die!”  


  
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“Ya seriously thought about killin’ her? How heartless could ya possibly be?”

Meouch sat beside his leader with a gobsmacked expression, his tail lashing back and forth while he listened to the absurd things that left Sung’s mouth. He had never known about this part of his past, having always assumed that his caring personality was a lifelong trait. It was hard to believe that his previous persona was an emotionless monster with a selfish god complex. 

The feline shook his head in disbelief, horrified by the thought of things going the other way. That woman would have never stood a chance against the brutal duo. “I’ve heard about Havve’s tendencies to go savage, but ya’ve only hinted at it a few times. I can’t believe ya used to let him do it. I’m shocked that ya never even batted an eye.”

“It’s hard for me to remember as well," said Sung. "I think about my past a lot and how awful I used to be.” He thought back to his first encounter with Avida, and visibly grimaced. “I was so cruel to her. If things hadn’t turned out as they did, Avida would've been mauled by Havve’s blade. The worst part is that I wouldn’t have cared. Stars, I despise myself for ever thinking such vile thoughts.” He held his face in his hands, shaking his head woefully.

“Havve’s murder tendencies,” asked Meouch, his words phrased with extra care. “When was the last time he’s done somethin’ like that?”

Sung smiled softly, seeming pleased with his progress through their long journey. “He’s been clean for eleven years. Of course, he’ll still go ballistic when we’re cornered in battle, but that’s because he knows which fights to pick. He recognizes the difference between harmless beings and treacherous enemies. Before, everything was the same—equally worthless. Now, he knows what he should protect. Specifically who.”

“Strive,” hummed Meouch. He was confident that the robot would still jump to any of their sides if the need arose, but the metal beast was highly sensitive to the well-being of their young companion. While he had remained clean for several years, Meouch was certain their teammate would break his streak if it meant saving the child’s life.

“Speakin' of him," continued Meouch. "I want to know more. Ya’ve hardly scratched the surface with the facts ya’ve given us.” He let his eyes wander to the blank skies, viewing the abysmal space with much more sadness than before. “Ya mean to tell me that the stars have been alive this entire time? As in, livin’ breathin’ things?”

The doctor nodded.

“Avida was talkin’ to them? That sounds impossible, even comin’ from someone as strange as ya. Have y’ever heard of such a thing, Phobos?”

The rocketeer was immobile for a while, his fingers tapping nervously against the sandy terrain. He nodded his head slowly, seeming dazed by the strange phenomenon. He hadn't thought it could be real.

Meouch pressed on. “Really? What do ya mean?”

Phobos held up his hand, urging his companions to wait for a moment. Since their current environment was plagued by sound dampening sands, it was hard for him to get his words across. He settled for the rock that Sung had positioned himself on, pulling out his photon blade and using the hilt as a solid impact point. His words were choppy, but clear nonetheless. _“I’ve heard stories. About the star whisperers. Celestial Gossips. They are legends. Fables for children. I was told many tales during my youth.”_

“Celestial Gossips, eh? And what did yer storytellers have to say about ‘em?”

 _“They are incredibly rare beings. Holding immeasurable amounts of power. They could know the secrets of the entire cosmos if they desired, perhaps even control it. Their knowledge was endless, provided by the all-seeing forces above.”_ He tapped relentlessly, his movements getting more sporadic as he continued to talk. He needed to get his thoughts out as quickly as possible. _“Legends say only one can exist at a time. The stars choose who receives the gift, they choose who can become an equal in their presence. To be a Celestial Gossip is to reach divine levels. They hold the stars in their palms.”_

Meouch looked over at Sung and detected a hint of surprise. “Was this not somethin’ she told ya?”

“No, she never mentioned this. But I honestly don’t think she knew to begin with.” Sung shook his head sadly. “She never asked them for the secrets of the cosmos, nor did she see herself as an all-powerful being. She simply cherished their company, revelling in their presence with every chance she got. Avida lived an authentic existence. She never had a single thought about misusing the stars’ knowledge. Perhaps she knew more than she let on, but if that were the case, she never let a sliver of information slip. She had nothing but respect and loyalty for her confidants.”

“Hmm, alright. So the stars are livin’ creatures, Avida was able to hear their voices—what does that make Strive? He’s gotta be somethin’ special, yeah?”

Sung huffed with sorrowed amusement. “Hit the nail on the head with that guess, Meouch. For a while, I didn’t know what his connection with the stars was. Avida had shared so much information on our first encounter, yet she refused to say anymore after that. It took quite some time before she revealed the rest of the truth to us. By that point, we had gotten closer as a trio. I guess she felt safe enough to tell the rest of her tale.

“Avida . . . She never failed to surprise me. Such a strange, yet remarkable woman she turned out to be.”  


  
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“Sung, I don’t know what to do. She won’t stop pestering me.”

“Just endure it a little while longer, okay? She’ll tire eventually.”

Sung watched from his ship as his partner was cornered by the woman’s incisive chatter, the robot having been ordered to stay in position until dinner was done. The doctor was currently whipping up a new recipe, one he hadn’t had the chance to try yet. He wanted it to be a surprise for their female companion, yet her curiosity often got the best of her. She wanted to see what he was doing, half-joking that it was probably a poisoned meal. 

“I’m not trying to kill you,” he had assured her, feeling a little dismayed by her harsh claims. “You and I eat the exact same things. Why would I purposely poison myself too?”

“Well, you did try to kill me a few days ago. That’s not something I can easily forget, now is it?” Avida still held a cautious air around the duo, keeping her senses sharp in the event of another unprovoked attack. While she had gotten a little more comfortable in their presence, she was still careful. She acknowledged that she’d need their help to get off the planet. She’d especially need a few pointers if she ever wanted to travel on her own. She was technically at their mercy, but she didn’t see it like that—she never gave them the satisfaction of thinking that way.

She was certainly a feisty creature, one that Sung found himself growing fond of.

Now, his fiery companion was in the company of Havve’s mute husk, forced to entertain herself by talking his circuits into oblivion. She seemed insistent on getting a reaction, much to Havve’s dismay. The only one he would communicate with was Sung, his protocol wired to obey him without question. He had vowed his services to the man, choosing to remain loyal to a single being. He didn’t serve anyone else, especially not the annoying little gnat beside him.

“Your relationship is so bizarre,” began Avida. “The way the two of you talk is a little scary to think about. Travelling for millennia? It sounds far too unbelievable for me to accept. I can’t really speak for you, but Sung doesn’t look a day over the average adult! You expect me to believe that the two of you are some type of immortal beings?”

Havve kept his mind closed, grimacing in artificial annoyance as he listened to her drone on without a moment’s rest. Ever since she showed up, his wires had been in an awful twist. Her presence made him feel things he had yet to experience for himself. He usually relied on Sung’s minimal reactions to gain any sort of ‘emotion’. Now, he was at the mercy of the blabbering women, her words holding enough power to send his circuits into overdrive. Sung had recently gained an enhanced emotional response, as did the robot in return. He hated it—his new emotions were the bane of his previously mundane existence.

“I’ve never heard Sung talk to you, yet you seem to know what he wants no matter what distance you’re separated by. Do you have a connection through his mind? Some type of bogus link that only you can understand?”

 _Quick minded_ , he thought to himself, feeling mildly impressed by her intuition. Regardless of her intelligence, he still loathed her squeaky questions. She was a being who was born with proper emotions; could she not see how vexed he had become?

“I know you’re listening to what I’m saying," she heckled. "I can hear your drumming getting louder. A little annoyed, are we?” .

Havve could hear Sung stifle a laugh from across the clearing. The robot glared in his direction, his ruby orbs ablaze with rage. 

“You know, I was scared of you before. I still am, if I’m being completely honest. You did a number on me when I first stumbled across you guys; these bandages hardly do justice to the pain beneath the surface.” The woman chuckled darkly, placing her hand lightly above her sides. The injury was still fresh, preventing her from moving freely across the clearing. Had it not been for her injured ribs, she would have purposely re-positioned herself away from the robot. “I’m aware that you could end my life in a second. But I have faith that you won’t.”

 _Of course not,_ Havve thought to himself, _I can’t break my protocol. Spare me from your pointless chatter._

“Something to do with Sung’s order, I presume?”

Havve paused, becoming both irritated and impressed by the knowing woman. She was sharp, observant, and nearly correct in all her guesses. He hadn’t expected her to learn so much about them in what little time they had spent together. It was unusual for another being to know about their lives. It was even more strange that she seemed to actively care about their existence, keeping each new fact close to her core and building upon the next.

“So, I was right. Your eyes, they flashed for a second,” she scoffed, carefully leaning back and looking across the clearing. She watched Sung fiddle with various objects in the distance, his makeshift kitchen having been established beneath the dull skies. She was quiet for a bit—a blessing in Havve’s mind—but not for long. Her eyes narrowed mischievously, a smirk etching its way across her face. She leaned close to the robot, keeping her voice low. “Hey, what’s that behind Sung?”

The woman cackled when the doctor jumped into the air, his focus lost as he prepared to meet an invisible foe. Of course, there was nothing for him to fear, a simple bluff on Avida’s part. She sneered childishly, confirming her suspicions. “So, he can hear us. Good to know that I was right.”

Havve turned his head in surprise, shocked by the woman’s wit. She should be scared of them, she should be fearing for her life beneath their presence. Instead, she was actively heckling his partner, abusing their telepathic link as if it were a play thing. Havve had never met a creature so infuriating to endure. His protocol buzzed in his centre, his arms itching for a chance to strike.

“You won’t, Hogan,” cautioned Avida. She seemed confident, daring to use that insufferable nickname in front of him—Havve despised it. “If not for your orders, then for your own sense of self. Sung says that you’re an emotionless, thoughtless beast, but I don’t believe it for a second. There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

For the first time since she began talking, Havve found himself interested in what she had to say. What she spewed was utter nonsense, but he couldn’t tear his attention away from her thoughtful voice. How odd.

“What is it that you want, Havve? I’m not talking about your orders or the feelings you’re forced to share with your companion. I’m talking about you specifically—as a separate entity. What do you want, exactly?”

What did he want? The robot blinked in uncertainty as he tried to understand what she meant by her cryptic question.

What did he want? What did _Sung_ want? He couldn’t do anything without his partner’s orders. He wasn’t free to decide for himself, he was bound to his companion’s demands. Artificial monsters like him didn’t have a choice; they were supposed to follow orders, not create their own.

“I’m not saying that you have to disregard his orders—I have a feeling that would be impossible for a creature like you. You function on commands, right? That’s all fine and dandy, but what about the gaps between orders? Don’t you think you deserve to have a little more freedom? A chance to have your own say in the matter?” Avida continued her speech, seeming well aware of the turmoil she was causing. “A little bit of emotion never hurt anybody. Well, that’s a lie. Emotions can hurt. Stars alive, they can rip your soul from your body if you're not careful.

“They can be treacherous, suffocating, and excruciating at times. But with a little darkness comes a lot of light. Feelings are wonderful—they let you love, they let you experience the joys of laughter, they bring hope for another day in your lifetime. Without emotions, you become an empty husk, destined to drift through a bleak existence without a purpose. Sound familiar?”

 _Yes, painfully so_. Havve froze, feeling his vitals squeeze as an emulated pain ripped through his centre. That was new for him. The robot looked at his companion across the clearing, noticing how he had momentarily staggered at the sudden intrusion of emotion. That was new too.

“I’m probably just rambling by this point, but I couldn’t keep these thoughts to myself any longer. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. Granted, our situations are vastly different and nearly incomparable, but my belief still stands. Everyone deserves to have their own say in how they want to live, whether this be the freedom to act or the ability to stand your ground.” Avida blushed, seeming embarrassed by her sappy speech. “Look at me, rambling to a murderous robot without a care in the world. If someone told me I’d be in this position a few days ago, I’d call them mad.

“I’ll ask you again, Havve," she pressed. "What do you want? Surely there must be something floating around that rusty head of yours. Come on, let’s hear it. What do you, a lonesome and supposedly emotionless monster, want in life? The possibilities are endless, you just have to see it for yourself.”

Havve felt helpless beneath her confusing words, his mind plagued with fretful aches and a sizzling sensation. Everything he had ever known has revolved around Sung and his orders. He thrived when he fulfilled his commands. He felt at peace when he was given a direction to follow. Making a choice for himself? How scandalous.

The robot cast his gaze towards his companion, looking into his black visor with a silent question. What did he want? Sung didn’t have the answer for him this time—he left it for Havve to decide. Alone. The metal being searched his motherboard frantically, running through each of his protocols as if his artificial life depended on it.

They didn’t have an answer either—what was he to do?

No, what did he _want_ to do? What did he, a separate entity, want for _himself_? He had choices, ones he hadn't even considered until this very moment. Havve's eyes dimmed and developed a blank sheen. What did he desire?

“You seem to be lost in your thoughts," Avida noted. "Maybe I pushed you too hard? In that case, forget everything I said. Listening to me is one of the last things you’d ever want to do—”

Havve raised his grasper into the air, silencing the woman with a swift flick of his wrist. Avida’s eyes widened as she watched the robot move on his own, his scarlet orbs now glued to her form. Ruby light flooded his glare, piercing the women with a new found intensity. One could say a renewed sense of life, as well.

“What _I_ want,” began Havve, choosing to establish a connection with the talkative woman, “is for you to hold your tongue, Avida. My circuits can only handle so much strain. Let me enjoy some peace and quiet.”

A shocked hush fell upon the glade.

Havve grimaced when Sung dropped a plate across the clearing, the noise quite unappealing after the onslaught of poking and prodding he had just endured. He could hear his partner bombarding him with endless questions, his astonished tone raised to incredulous levels. Yes, he knew he had been silent for countless millennia, but Avida had raised a good point. One he found himself inclined to act upon.

He had made the choice to follow Sung, so it made sense that he was capable of making other choices for himself. The woman wanted him to make his own choices? Fine, he’d make a connection just to prove his point. He was capable of free thought, and he was determined to use their link as a way of pestering her, just as she had done to him. She wanted him to talk? She’d get it out of pure spite.

The results were . . . not what he had thought. 

Avida’s core lit up in excitement, her dark eyes glimmering with pride as her feverish words continued to crash into the robot like a tidal wave, her genuine interests seeming unperturbed by his cold responses. She’d ask him what he was thinking, breaking out into a joyous laughter when she approved of his thoughts. Other times, she’d lightly chastise his violent desires, gently steering him into the right direction in terms of acceptable behaviour. Havve knew he should hate the woman’s interference, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

For the first time in his existence, he felt a connection to a creature other than his partner. To say she was growing on him would be an understatement—Havve found himself lured to the woman’s upbeat personality, his solid protocol shifting and stirring beneath his wicked exterior. A few wires snapped into oblivion. Some new ones mended themselves together, creating a path towards his newly established function.

Havve could hardly believe it himself. He had actually sworn loyalty to another lifeform. It shouldn't have happened in the first place, and yet it did. He mulled through his thoughts, marvelling at the fact that they were authentically his to claim. 

Avida had managed to rewrite his protocol. He should be consumed with primal rage, but the desire was no longer there. It had burnt up along with his lifelong restraints, allowing him to feel incredibly diverse feelings. His chest squeezed in response, his circuits doused in a warm glow. Was this happiness? Was he worthy of such an emotion? 

The woman’s smile reassured him of his validity, offering a small pat to his rounded form. Havve brought his eyes to the sky, his jaw raising in a curious position. He felt warm. He felt comfortable by the strange woman’s side. If he could sigh, he most certainly would. Not out of impatience, nor ill-mannered annoyance. Those sensations held no place in Avida’s presence—he wanted to sigh out of relief.

He had his initial doubts, but Avida kept him on the right path. He was worthy after all.  


  
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“My mother was the only other being you spoke to?”

The robot leaned over the boy while he finished the first page of notes, his mother having left him a detailed anthology of her time with the duo. Havve nodded his head as he remembered that day, a velvety fondness cradling his chest. He could recall every part of her meandering dialogue, choosing to pretend like he hadn’t caught a lick of what she was saying. This had annoyed Avida, but it made Havve feel mischievous. At that point, he was testing as many new feelings as he possibly could. It was like he had been revived a second time, his savoir appearing in the form of the boy’s mother.

“Avida had a way with words. Within a few days, she had managed to shake our perspectives without breaking a sweat. For her, life was a gift meant to be experienced. She wanted us to have the same chance as everyone else—she refused to leave us in the dark any longer. Your mother saw something that we couldn’t see in ourselves; she believed in our futures. She wanted us to break past the bleakness.

“With her as our guide, we did. Stars, how we loved our new existence. It felt right. It felt fulfilling, like we finally had a reason for continuing our endless days. She . . .” Havve’s mind sounded choked up, overwhelmed by his raw emotions. “Avida wanted what was best for us. She wouldn’t settle for anything less . . . only the best.”

Strive frowned, his eyes cast downwards as he flipped over to the next page. He grazed the surface of the text, his core pulsing sporadically once he beheld a few key words. They were about him. 

“This page isn’t as old as the last," he said. "I saw the writing, but I don’t understand what she means. The way she’s talking about me, it’s—”

Havve gently placed his grasper on the boy’s hand, urging him to get back on track. “You’ll understand when you read it in full detail. Judging by the state of the paper, I can assume that was written during our first year as a crew. If I happen to be correct, then this information is incredibly important to you.” The robot encouraged Strive to continue, the boy being the only one who could translate the woman’s writing. Havve couldn’t read it—it was up to Strive to continue the story.

“Start at the place where you left off. I have a feeling this account will answer your remaining questions.”  


  
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Avida sat beneath the shade of Sung’s ship, her eyes half-lidded as she took the chance to have a well deserved rest. Their current mission had proven to be an exhausting affair, filled with hasty escapes and the worrisome damages their ships had endured. Yes, their tangle with the scavengers had been much more difficult than they had initially thought. Thankfully, they made it out alive, having stunned a few ships along the way. Avida slumped against the charred vessel, her muscles aching from the strain she had put on herself during the stressful situation. Being a co-pilot was great, but it often came with some tiring tasks. Specifically, the job of firing hundreds of weapons into the deepest part of space, praying that you managed to land a single hit on the incoming target. 

Avida felt ashamed by her novice skills, but she was no doubt grateful that she had somehow gotten the job done. Hopefully with time, she’d become a reliable asset for the doctor’s ship. She never wanted to drag the man down in any way, but she could certainly bring herself to question his awful choice of refuge.

Their current destination was incredibly odd, the colour palette seeming random and carelessly chosen by nature. The skies were doused in a persistent gold, the grass was dyed a peculiar turquoise, and the rocks were an aggravating red, the soil proving to be a much harsher shade of hideous vermilion. The woman could hardly stomach such a disaster. She pinched the bridge of her nose, willing herself to expel her growing headache.

It was the middle of the afternoon when they had decided to land. The planet’s sun was incredibly intense, forcing the woman to retreat beneath the protective shadows of her companion’s ship. Her UV contacts were great for dampening the glaring rays of the brilliant beast, but they were having trouble keeping up with the strange environment. The reflection of the sun was unbearable against the neon sands; Avida groaned at the ugly display, silently cursing Sung for choosing such a gaudy planet in the first place.

“I felt a chilly draft. Is someone talking behind my back?”

Avida turned her head in the direction of her companion’s voice, her ears lowered guiltily as the man approached her sulking form. “Not really talking, per se. Though I do find myself annoyed by the terrible choice, Sung. It looks like a hurricane mixed up any common sense this terrain possessed.” The woman shook her head in dismay. “How long do you think repairs will take? They weren’t that bad, right?”

“Eh, hard to say. Our ship is in way better condition than Havve’s—one of his engines keeps sputtering and making little green sparks. He won’t be able to fly until the problem is addressed. We could be looking at a few days on the ground.” He tapped his hand against his yellow vessel, brushing off some sooty residue. “Our ship will be fine. Just needs a bit of a wash and shine.”

Avida sighed at the news.

“Great. I’ll be stuck with this headache for days. At least this planet has a night cycle; that’ll give me some time to forget the awful landscape.” She paused, huffing in irritation when she realized how much of a downer she was being. “Sorry, it’s been a long mission. I’m feeling pretty drained.” 

Sung took a seat beside her and tried to channel her usual positivity. “It was definitely rough, but we managed to get some info from it! Word has it that there are substances capable of creating indestructible weapons—if we gathered all the necessary tools, we could equip it to our blasters and actually dismantle a Void ship! No more stunning them and running off into the Bridge; we could do some serious damage if we find these materials.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. That would be good to have on hand.” Avida felt a small smile grace her lips, her mood slowly improving as the doctor talked her out of her gloomy mood. A year ago, it would have been the other way around. Oh, how quickly things changed, a change that Avida was proud to witness. Sung had come a long way; Havve too. The duo had slowly adopted her into their ranks, accepting the new group as an inseparable trio.

The doctor smiled, tutting at the woman’s somewhat dull tone. “Still a little down, huh? Did you want to spend the time practicing? Havve said he can handle the repairs on his own, and dinner won’t need to be made for a while. We’ve got nothing better to do.” 

Avida’s eyes glimmered at the suggestion. She nodded eagerly, forgetting her woes for the time being. “Alright, do you have paper?” The doctor nodded, pulling out a small notepad from his side pocket. “Great. Who starts this time? Me or you?”

“You go first," offered Sung. "My pronunciation is horrible compared to yours.”

“You’ve got that right," Avida chuckled. "Okay, let’s get started.” 

The two of them disengaged their Lexicomms, placing the translation devices off to the side. Avida took the time to write an unknown sentence on the sheet of paper, followed by a few words they had covered the day before. She tore the paper from its spirals, handing it towards Sung with an encouraging nod. 

The doctor read the words carefully, wracking his brain as he tried to decipher the foreign language. He grimaced, his voice dying in his throat once pesky hesitance took hold. He tried again, cringing in anticipation for his failures. “Pract— _ish_ makes perf— _ech_ , blue skies, yell— _achow_ sh—ands, green grass—” The doctor shook his head in embarrassment, trying to hide the humiliated blush that spread across his features. Judging by Avida’s trembling shoulders, he could only assume that his attempt was horrendous. 

“You’re doing great,” she assured the man, keeping her voice clear and simple. She used her native tongue, trying to keep control during her time as teacher. “Softer. Not as harsh with your words—let them flow.” She waved her hand through the air, trying to illustrate the desired tone. 

Sung watched the woman with intense interest, slowly nodding his head once he understood her liquid voice. He tried again, choosing to add a gentle lift to the end of each word. “Practice makes per . . . fect, blue skies, yell—oooh skies, green grass—” He read the last word multiple times, seeming lost as to how he should attempt it. He braved the embarrassment, persevering through the complicated sentence. “Fhoood far th— _ouughet?_ ”

Avida clapped her hands together in excitement. “Nearly there!” she praised in her tongue. “Repeat after me: Food. For. Thought.” Her companion tried again, this time nailing the pronunciation perfectly. Avida cheered at his accomplishment, showering him with great acclaim. The doctor blushed beneath her enthusiasm, lowering his head in embarrassment when his bashfulness got the better of him.

“Th— _anks_ ,” he stuttered, tripping over his words. “Switch?” he asked in Avida’s language. 

She nodded and handed the paper back to her companion. “Make it a doozy,” she heckled in Sung’s language, her words suddenly much harsher in delivery and tone. The doctor smirked, conjuring up a slew of impossibly hard words for the woman to stumble through. 

Unlike Sung, Avida had excelled at learning a new language, her understanding and overall pronunciation much more refined than the doctor’s attempts. Sure, she had the occasional hiccup, but she would always make sure to correct her mistakes before they happened a second time. Through their lessons, she had learned that their two languages were vastly different. Her language was velvety soft, their words swooping low and cradling the listener in its harmonious hum. Sung’s language was the complete opposite—it was incredibly jarring to listen to.

Avida had to quickly adapt to the harsh syllables and barking breaks. Tones would change at the drop of a hat, their meaning often depending on the context they were spoken with. There were multiple words with the same pronunciation, but they all meant vastly different things. Sung’s colloquial shortcuts were confusing at first, but with enough practice, Avida was able to conquer the impossible language. Had she kept her Lexicomm on hand at all times, she would have never noticed how unique her companion’s language actually was. Since they had nothing better to do in their free time, picking up each other’s native dialect was an excellent way to pass the time.

Before they had even gotten to verbal communication, the two of them had worked tirelessly to translate their written symbols. After months of practice, they had nearly perfected the visual language. All that was left was to put the two elements together, eventually claiming mastery over each other’s vernacular.

Avida kept this in mind while she read over Sung’s scribbles, her lips parted in preparation to relay the words. She stifled a giggle when she spoke their nonsensical purpose. “Ancient wisdom, arcane art, martial pro— _wess_ . . .?” she stumbled over the last word, but she forced herself to push through the gibberish, hardly skipping a beat during her next verse. “Return to wherever, together through time . . . am I getting that right?” 

“Almost perfect!" Sung praised, crossing his arms in approval. "Only one little thing was off, but it was basically a flawless run. Just work on the low dips, okay? Your accent shows the most with words like that.”

“I quite like the accent. It gives my words a bit of flair, no?” Avida laughed joyously, her eyes crinkled in delight. “Hauve likes the way I speak. He says that I’ve managed to make an unbearable language sound almost bearable.” She purposely added a different pronunciation to the robot’s name, carrying the dips much further than what was expected. The artificial being didn’t seem to mind at all; he seemed endeared by the little twist. 

“Tsk, of course he’d say that. You know, he’s gotten to be such a smart ass with you around.” Sung sighed. “What’s it been now? A year?”

“Yes, something like that.” Avida’s core hummed with a soft blue light, a woeful glow invading her centre. It was painful to think about, but she had to keep reminding herself about the good she was doing. She missed her planet terribly; she missed her son with all her might. There wasn’t a single night where she’d fall asleep without wondering what her little Starlight was up to. 

Was he okay? Did he still remember her? Surely he must. He had only been in his sixth year when she left him. Did her absence hurt him as much as it did her? Avida lowered her head in despair, her insides churning as guilty claws gripped her centre. She was trying to get back as soon as possible, but their mission was proving much more complex than she had anticipated. He’d have to wait a little longer. They all would. 

How was the village managing without their starlight? Not only that, but how were they even functioning? There were days where Avida’s chest ached, her core yearning for a sample of precious starlight. She felt starved, the gnawing pain enough to make most beings go mad. She had no way to satisfy these cravings. Instead, her steadfast determination served as a makeshift remedy for the hunger. She could only hope that the rest of her species had found a way to counter the insanity, lest that fall into irreversible despair. 

She placed her hand over her core, her worries swamping the brilliant gem into submission. She had no way of knowing if her species was even alive. Starlight was so precious to them. To live without it was surely a death sentence. The other villagers may succumb to the sickness, their numbers slowly whittling away until no one remains—except for a single child. Avida grimaced, gripping her core even tighter as she bit back the prickle of tears. It would be a grim fate, one her child may have to endure if she wasn’t quick enough. 

“Avida, are you alright?” Sung’s concerned tone brought her back from the edge, pulling her from her sorrows for the time being. She looked up, noticing that the doctor had turned his Lexicomm back on. Avida did the same. “Something’s got you down." he commented. "This kind of prolonged sadness isn't typical for you. Anything we can do?”

At the mention of ‘we’, Avida caught a glimpse of Havve’s scarlet eyes in the distance, his artificial gaze muddled with worried sparks. Following his own commands, he joined the group beneath the yellow ship, taking a spot beside his female companion and offering his presence for comfort. 

Avida felt choked up by their concerns. She bit back her pesky tears, swiping her palm across her face and giving a few small sniffs. “I can hardly believe that it’s been a year. It feels like I’ve been gone for an eternity.” She gave a weak chuckle, backtracking for a moment. “Sorry, not the most appropriate choice of words when I’m travelling with you guys. A year probably means nothing in your book.”

“Usually, I’d find myself agreeing with you,” said Sung. “But this mission has been the longest year of my life, and I don’t mean it in a bad way. Quite the opposite, really. I’m actually looking forward to each new day and what lies ahead. Nothing mulls together anymore. Everything is an established day, each with a distinguished time. Do you find that as well, Havve?”

The robot nodded. “Yes. I’m inclined to agree with you," he said, speaking to both of his companions through their link. "Though we should steer this conversation back to Avida—no one needs to hear about our trivial, undying lives anymore than we live it.” Havve cocked his head to the side, his soft ruby gaze encouraging her to continue. 

“Glad to know you’ve enjoyed yourselves,” she whispered. “But, it’s so hard for me to keep my spirits strong. I miss them. Stars alive, I miss my little Strive so much.

“I wake up and feel like I’m suffocating in guilt and regret. I knowingly left him on that planet without any hesitation. He’s stranded on a dying planet while I’m up here flying through the uncharted cosmos. He’s living a life that I can’t be a part of. How many milestones have I missed? How many of his birthdays will I be absent for? How many times has he been plagued by nightmares, reaching out for my protection, only to realize I’m not there to comfort him? Does he still remember me? Does he loath my existence?”

“Avida, you can’t beat yourself up like this,” whispered Sung, his voice low while he tried to comfort his doleful companion. “You’re trying to save your people. You’re trying to bring the stars back to their proper skies. More than that, you’re doing what you think is best for your child. I see no faults in your pure ideals, only a devoted mother with a mission. I don’t think your child hates you, nor has he forgotten about your valiant cause. If he knows you as well as us, he’ll see the bravery and courage his mother possesses.” The doctor paused. “Don’t lose hope, Avida. We’re here to help fulfill the mission. We promised you, didn’t we?”

“Yes, and I’m incredibly thankful everyday.” The woman's feathered ears trembled in time with her companion’s sincere words. She brushed a white lock from her face, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. “When all of this is over, I want you two to come back to my planet. I want you to meet my son.”

“Your son? You want us to meet the fabled little Strive?” Sung kept his words light, carefully building up his companion’s mood. He knew her child was a sensitive topic, so he wanted to approach it with the utmost care. “We’ve only heard stories about him, but he sounds like quite the kid. A bit of a handful too.”

Avida scoffed. “Oh, you have no idea. Try being his mother. The mischief he would get into was so infuriating! Truthfully, I really couldn’t fault him for that. After all, he did take after me. I was also guilty of encouraging him further, much to my father’s displeasure.” She allowed herself to laugh, her core flashing brightly once she remembered her fond memories. “We’d climb on the roof every night and look at the stars until we fell asleep. He’d come up with these crazy stories about how he would walk among them, telling me all about the stardust he’d bring back. I loved the way he’d look to the skies, how his core would burn brighter than the rest. Even when he brought his gaze back to the ground, his eyes were alive with celestial energy. He’d carry them with him wherever he went—the stars, they never left his eyes. I can only hope they’re still with him to this day.”

“Hmm, sounds like one hell of a kid,” mused Sung, his curiosity getting the better of him. It had been a while since Avida had brought up his starry eyes. She’d mention him a lot, but only little details like his sense for adventure, childish wonder, and his knack for getting into trouble. Whenever Avida mentioned him and the stars, a misty sheen would develop in her eyes. There was certainly more to the story than she was letting on. “If you don’t mind me asking: I want to know about his connection to the stars. We’ve touched on it a few times, but you’ve never delved deep into the story. I remember what you said when we first met you, something along the lines of the stars ‘giving’ him to you. What did you mean by that?”

Avida managed a small smile. “You know, I have yet to tell Strive about this part of himself. I was going to wait until he was a little older, just so he’d understand it better than a small child would. After everything I went though in my youth—heckled for hearing voices, given strange looks for my claims, repeatedly asked to stop my childish stories—I didn’t want to risk him going through the same things as me. If he knew the truth, he’d surely feel like an outcast. I was hoping to tell him when he gained a little more comprehension of his circumstances.”

“And that would be . . .?” Sung pressed. 

“I never told you about myself, did I? Before I had Strive?”

The doctor shook his head. Havve did the same.

“Stars alive, where do I begin?” She inhaled deeply, letting out a large gust of wind. “I've told you about my child’s tendencies to get into trouble and how he’s quite the mischievous little thing. All that came from me. I can only groan in anticipation for what he’ll be like when he’s older. Whoever he’s with will certainly have their hands full.

“I’m not going to sugar coat this part of my life—frankly, I was reckless. I was carefree in my youth, even more so when I became an adult. The consequences of my actions were of little concern to me, especially when I didn’t have to face them. And, ah, well . . .” she moved her hands through the air, dismissing any more details from her statement. “Things happened. The point is, I was expecting a child. And I was terrified. Stars alive, was I scared to my wits end.

“When Strive was born, things weren’t looking so good. He didn’t cry, nor did he fuss like most infants should. He was unspeakably weak, hardly a single breath escaped his tiny from. The worst part was his core—it had nearly Faded, reduced to a pitiful grey flicker. I would weep for my child, fearing that each moment would be his last. I had spent so many months building up the courage to be a mother, learning to accept my new identity with open arms. To have it ripped away by the clutches of death was unbearable for me to think about.

“I cried; the stars did too. In the time before he was born, I would stay up all night prattling on with the stars. I confessed my excitement, the things I was looking forward to, the things I deeply feared—everything I felt was felt by my companions as well. They were endeared just as much as I was. They were devoted to the little creature they had yet to meet. They would shimmer brightly, anticipating the arrival of my beautiful child as if he were one of their own.

“They even helped me with his name. They had many ideas to throw around, some of which I quite enjoyed. But nothing stood out like the intensity of ‘Strive’. The stars were confident that he’d live up to the name. A child born from myself could only be destined for greatness, they said. The child would be brave, courageous, fearless, and driven toward his ideals. They held so much confidence in their beliefs. With the way they were talking, I was convinced they could see into the future. They assured me that they couldn’t—this was made apparent when I prepared to say goodbye to my Starlight.

“I had no one to turn to, nobody but the stars above. The howled in response to my grievances, they cursed the galaxy with as much hate as they could muster. Their vibrant lights were reduced to cold dots, causing a sudden black out across our entire planet. I can only imagine what their sorrows did to the rest of the cosmos. Their darkness was a frightening thing to observe, comparable to that of the Void itself. I had lost hope—the stars had too. We were all prepared to lose our little Strive.”

Both Sung and Havve's eyes went wide.

Avida swiped her palm across her eyes, a wet cough invading her weak laugh. “As you already know, we never had to say goodbye. My little Strive lived. He survived on the brink of death’s door, and there’s never a day where I don’t thank the stars for their treasured gift.”

Sung gasped. “Are you implying that . . .?”

“I’m not implying anything, " she said. "I’m simply telling you the truth. Strive would be dead if it weren’t for the stars. Had they not given him their precious starlight, he would have perished beneath their sorrows. It all came from a single star, but that’s all he needed. Suddenly, my child was more than a simple lifeform. He housed starlight in his veins, their delicate stardust fuelling his core with a brilliance my people had yet to see. His life was renewed—a hybrid between an earthly and celestial existence. Most would overlook his radiance as the traits of youth, but I knew better than anyone. My child was more than a dreamer; he was the one who held the stars in his eyes.

“He would always find a way to the highest point in the village, failing to understand why he felt such a connection to the world above. At times, I thought he could hear them as well . . ." She paused. "No, I don’t think he’s at that level quite yet. Since their disappearance, I won’t have a way of knowing if he can actually hear their whispers. If he can, I suspect it has something to do with his starlight traits. He and I do not possess the same gifts—Strive is more miraculous than I could ever be. As far as I’m concerned, he always will be.

“I had always hoped to tell him," she continued, "but I wasn’t sure when the right time would be. To compensate, I made sure he found importance in one specific star, the one who gave him a new life. Truthfully, he didn’t need my guidance in the first place. He was drawn to that star the moment he could see the world for himself. He sees something special in that glimmering dot. They acknowledge each other; they always have. I can only imagine Strive’s pain when he looks up at the blank skies, his star having been claimed by a terrible force. My hope is to reunite them once the mission is complete. They’ve surely been missing each other, as have the other stars, too. Oh, how they adored their little Starling.”

Silence followed the woman's conclusion. Sung was speechless, feeling utterly tongue-tied at the shocking revelation. Havve wasn’t much better, his scarlet eyes dilated as he tried to process the news through his internal commands. It felt like his circuits were about to go haywire. 

Avida laughed at their reaction, seeming at peace now that she was able to explain her convoluted past. She had never told anyone of Strive’s secret, not even her blood-relatives. The only ones who knew were the stars, though their absence would do them no good in retelling this important story. For now, she’d leave her confidential knowledge in the hands of her trusted companions. She had grown to feel safe in their presence, their new found friendship an experience she had longed to achieve in her lifetime. How it all came together was strange to think about, but the cosmos worked in mysterious ways.

“Any more questions, Sung? I’m sure nothing else could shock you by this point.” The man remained motionless. “Alright then, Hogan? Anything to ask?”

“No," stuttered Havve. "I’ve nothing that could possibly hold its ground against a story like that. You are quite the remarkable woman, Avida.”

“I’d hardly call myself remarkable," she snickered, her spirits feeling recharge in the company of her allies. "I just have a knack of getting into ridiculous situations. Travel with me a little longer and you’ll see what I mean.” She smiled broadly, swinging her arms around Sung’s shoulders as she brought him closer, repeating the same action with Havve by her side. It was a little difficult due to their size difference, but the robot allowed himself to lower to her level. “You guys chose this mission knowing full well I was strange to begin with. Are you still willing to carry on ‘till the end?”

Sung was still reeling from the astonishing tale. “Stars alive, your entire life is insane.”

“Stealing my lingo now, huh?” she laughed.

Her sour mood was long forgotten, replaced by the warm embrace of her curious friendship. Never could she have imagined herself in this position. Travelling the cosmos on a recovery quest, paired with an immortal duo as they chased a despicable foe—it all sounded impossible. But then again, her entire life had been impossible. She just had to accept the strange things her existence revolved around.

So long as their mission was a success, her life would have a purpose. She longed to get back to her child, to hold him tightly, and to dote and fuss over everything he did. She anticipated many more years in their adventure, and it pained her deeply to think about. She’d miss out on countless scraped knees and the chance to comfort her sniffling bundle. She’d miss the joys of simple things, such as comical drawings and crudely spoken stories. Even the thought of tantrums and blow ups was something she found herself yearning for, choosing to view these events as a chance to grow and understand one another. 

She’d miss all of those important moments—she mourned the loss of experiencing his adventures through childhood. 

Despite the pain, she willed herself to keep her goals in mind. Everything she did was for him. Times would be tough for a while, but she’d make it back to him. She promised to prevail no matter the odds. Avida could only hope that her son realized her dedication towards him—she truly loved him. Stars, how she cherished him.

Now, there were two more beings who carried her same drive. They hadn’t met him yet, but Avida was certain they loved him all the same. With each new story she shared, her companions grew even more invested in the cause, specifically to the boy she constantly fussed over. She awaited the day where they could finally meet, no longer plagued by the perils of the cosmos or the stress of saving billions of lifeforms. She wanted them to see what made her child so special in the first place. It wasn’t the starlight in his veins, nor his miraculous connection to the stars. It was the fact that he was her son—he was her entire world. Thus, he had become their worlds as well. 

“If only you knew,” she whispered to herself. “Stars, I wish you knew.”

_My little Strive, if only you knew how much we treasured you._


	22. Reconcile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the thought of reuniting with the crew, Strive's core lights with anticipation. His companions desperately miss him, anxiously awaiting his safe return. Yet apprehension fills the heart of the tortured doctor, leading him to dread their eventual meeting. How will Strive react upon his arrival? Will his starry eyes hold venomous hatred or feathered forgiveness for the man's past sins?
> 
> Immortal beings have little to fear, but the child's final decision may be the death of the doctor.

Time was virtually meaningless in the strange desert. The dark skies remained blank, showing no sights of an approaching dawn nor the cold blanket of nightfall. Everything stayed the same shade of fluorescent orange, a few scattered rocks reflecting their ghostly shine across the lands. There was no way of telling how much time had passed. There was no way of knowing how long Strive had been reading his mother’s messages. 

He read the notes carefully, scanning each whimsical letter as if they held the secrets of the universe. In some ways, they practically did. His mother confessed numerous things in her notes, most of which concerned Strive and his strange history. It was hard to believe at first, an unbelievable revelation to learn. 

Strive had been saved by the stars. Their precious starlight flowed through his veins. For an entire decade, he had yearned to see the stars once again, to gaze upon their alluring glow, to feel their gentle stardust on his skin. He had gone so many years wishing for their return. In reality, he had been closer than anyone could have ever imagined. 

Another page flipped in his grasp, making way for a new set of memoirs. Strive followed the handwriting with his exhausted gaze, refusing to falter and urging himself to keep reading. He was dreadfully tired after everything he had been through, but he wouldn’t dare rest for something as important as this. After believing that his mother had died in the skies, gaining knowledge of her eight year adventure was a game changer. Suddenly, he had more information that he knew what to do with. It sent his head into a spin, much to the displeasure of his robotic companion. 

More than once, Havve would express concern for the boy’s condition. He sat at attention by his side, listening for any facts the child wished to share with him. Not only that, but he remained focused on Strive’s health, gently pushing his voice into the younger’s occupied thoughts. 

“You should rest,” he said. “You’ve been through quite a lot in such a short time. I’d advise that you take a break.”

Strive shook his head. “No, I’ve told you that I’m fine.” He blinked slowly, feeling his muscles yowl in stinging protest. His current wounds were awful to endure, especially since they were built upon previous trauma. During both takeovers by the Void, he had mercilessly clawed his skin in an effort to regain his senses. The first assault had been painful, and the second one was like salt on an open wound. There was still blood caked beneath his fingertips. 

“You're not fine. You’re injured, Strive. Let me help you.” The robot kept his tone soft, his artificial voice drenched with genuine concern. He was terribly worried for his young companion. “You’ve yet to call your vessel back into your core. Is there a reason? It would help you immensely if you retrieved it.”

“I’m aware. Stars, I want to. But it’s just . . .” Strive sighed, grimacing when he put the notes down to his lap. “How could I claim that thing as my own again? You saw what it was—what it _is_. What if it turns into a Void ship the moment I call it back? After piloting it for so long, I thought I wouldn’t have to see that cursed form again.”

The robot cocked his head to the side, seeming surprised by this statement. “You already knew it was a Void ship?”

“I—yes, I did.” Strive lowered his ears in shame, casting his tired eyes to the side. “My story about finding the vessel was the truth, but I left out one crucial detail. When I first encountered it, it was a Void ship. There was no mistaking it. Like the scavengers we’ve encountered, this ship spoke to me as well. It wasn’t as direct as the others, but there was no denying how much power it held over me. It was frightening, but I . . .” he looked away in disgust, “I willingly accepted it. The beast of the cosmos; I claimed it as my own.”

Havve leaned back and pondered the boy’s words. “If your vessel was a Void ship this entire time, that would make a lot more sense.

“What do you mean?” asked Strive.

“Well, I must confess a few details of my own.” Havve looked at the vessel, his ruby gaze seeming faraway in thought. “Sung and I were originally perplexed by the ship’s readings on our first encounter. We knew there had to be more to it than what you were willing to share with us. It had no signal, much like the scavengers we had previously crossed paths with. The readings were faint, but eerily similar to that of a Void ship. We were reluctant to agree with the findings, deciding to push them aside until we could come up with a more plausible diagnosis. Obviously, plausible means nothing in light of our current circumstance. 

“Visually, the vessel doesn’t resemble a Void ship. It wasn’t until you were overwhelmed by their influence did it change back into its original form. And yet, I’ve developed a suspicion regarding its ‘original’ form. To put it simply: I don’t think it was a Void ship to begin with.”

Strive’s eyes widened. He whipped his head back, flicking his gaze across the smooth exterior. The vessel was hovering peacefully over the terrain, acting as if it were keeping a watchful eye on the duo. He bit back his apprehension of the traitorous carrier. “What are you trying to say? You don’t think it has anything to do with those creatures?”

Havve bobbed his head in confirmation. “I have a vague idea, though it may sound insane to you. Tell me if this makes sense at all: you encountered this vessel on your planet, yes? It suddenly crashed down from the skies?”

Strive nodded his head, feeling a little lost beneath his companion's strange questions.

“Did you ever consider that it wasn’t by chance that the two of you were driven towards each other? Perhaps there was an existing connection that led it towards you, allowing it to find you among the endless routes of the cosmos.”

“Havve, you’re talking as if my vessel has a mind of its own.”

The robot silenced his young companion—gently, of course. “Humour me, Strive. I don’t think you realise how complex your vessel may actually be.” Havve's words were careful, but keen, as he explained his theory to Strive. “You said there was a connection that you couldn’t explain, one that felt right for you to accept. Your vessel crashed down as a Void ship, yet it graced the skies as a brand new creature, one you had a vital role in awakening. Bound by a new attachment, the two of you share each other's pain, a phenomenon that shouldn’t even be possible.

“Your vessel dissolves into nothing at your touch, retreating into your core as if it belongs there. When the two of you are combined, you develop rapid healing abilities that are most certainly uncommon for your species. None of the things I’ve mentioned are typical in the cosmos—none of these are normal attributes to a simple vessel. Your ship, Strive, was never a vessel to begin with.”

“That’s impossible, Havve.” Strive protested. “You’ve seen me pilot the ship. It flies, it has engines, control panels, viewing windows and complex communications—how could it not be a ship? It has to be one!”

There was a brief pause before Havve decided to continue. “Avida’s notes—did she ever mention what her original spacecraft looked like? A picture, or perhaps a description of its appearance?” He blinked, looking at his companion carefully. “Do you remember anything about her ship when she was building it on your planet?”

Strive looked down at his notes. He was currently reading his mother’s fifth year with the crew, halfway done the riveting story of their adventures through a desolate tundra. He was eager to continue her documentation of the harrowing escape, but Havve’s insistence was enough to divert his attention for the time being. “She didn’t write anything about her ship, but . . . I do remember the vessel a little bit. Only vaguely, though. She didn’t bring me into the workshop that often. She was always worried that I’d accidentally hurt myself with a stray tool.”

“Yeah, she mentioned something along the lines of that,” scoffed Havve. “Then what do you remember? Think hard, Strive. What did the vessel look like?”

His core’s light quickened. He hadn’t thought about his mother’s vessel in years, the memories of her suspected demise proving much too difficult for him to hold onto. He had rid his mind of the cursed vessel the moment she took off, viewing it as the cause of her death. Now that he knew the truth about her life, it became easier for him to tap into those repressed images. He was free to look back without any hesitation.

Fuzzy memories of Moebius bombarded his mind, their countless images flashing through his head like bullets. The events were scattered, zipping wildly across his vision. He could scarcely recall the nights where his mother would come back from her workshop, seeming tired and frazzled after some unknown experiment. She’d always make sure to check up on her sleeping bundle, offering a swift kiss on the forehead before heading to her own room for some much needed rest. Other times, she’d find him wide awake, eagerly awaiting a chance to hear one of her many whimsical tales. 

Strive shook his head—those weren’t the memories he was supposed to think about. 

He tried again, thinking of a time before the late nights and metallic smells that ebbed off her clothing. He thought back to her rare show-and-tells, her arms wrapped securely around his form as she hoisted him into her grasp, beaming happily when she let him gaze upon her life’s work. 

_“See that, Strive?” she'd asked, a radiant smile etched across her features. “This is what Mama’s been working on. It’s a vessel, one that can fly.”_

_“Fly?!” his little voice squawked, eyeing the strange object in awe. “Are you going to fly into the sky?”_

_She’d giggle and hold him close to her chest. “One of these days, Strive. Perhaps when you’re a little older. In the future, you and I can see the stars for ourselves. Not just on the ground, but in the clouds—through the stardust fields above! Then, we’ll look for your star. I’m sure it would love to have you in its company. Why, they've even told me so!”_

Strive remembered how he would laugh at his mother’s strange words, believing them to be simple displays of motherly affection. Now that he knew the truth, her words were no longer whimsical, nor were they seen as fantastical tales. When she spoke of the stars, she was never joking.

He scanned his thoughts for each meticulous detail, willing his memories to yield clear results. He had only seen the vessel a handful of times, his childish mind failing to understand its importance at that point. Gradually, he gathered small details about the vessel; a familiar shape slowly materializing in his misty thoughts.

Stark white in color, smooth exterior, passive in every sense—

He gasped. Azure sparks danced across his core in a fervent display. He turned to look at his vessel, dragging his eyes over every single detail the strange creature possessed. As his gaze travelled across the ethereal beast, his memories were pieced together into a cohesive image; his vessel was nearly identical to his mother’s carrier. 

Havve seemed pleased by the boy’s understanding. “Do you see the connection now? This vessel shouldn’t even exist, any reference of its form having long burned up in your stratosphere. Avida hardly mentioned her original design, but her occasional description was enough to make me think. As a result, I’ve come to an unbelievable conclusion.” 

Strive was still in awe at the vessel’s resemblance. He stood to face the mystical creature, slowly edging towards the white beast with staggered steps. He approached the ship with caution, the brilliant shine of his core ridding the land of its shadows. The rocks around them responded to the azure light, their reflective surfaces magnifying the boy’s luster to an extreme level. Havve found himself squinting, his circuits growing weary from the intense glow.

Without thinking, Strive raised his trembling hand towards the vessel. He could see his reflection against the vitreous shell, his features scrawled with a hint of fear and apprehension. His fingers twitched and curled in on themselves; he pulled his hand back. Was this a valiant creature, or the beast of his nightmare? It had proven to have two allegiances—an oath him, and an oath to the Void. After everything that had happened, could he find it in himself to trust this creature again?

He stood motionless in front of the vessel, waiting for an unknown prompt to appear before him.

“What are you thinking?” asked Havve. He watched his companion carefully, his scarlet eyes narrowed as he braced himself for a potential upset. Even after coming to his conclusion on the vessel, the robot had no way of knowing what this new encounter would yield.

Strive shivered; what was he thinking? Was he going to accept this creature back into his life? Back into his very being? He had been wronged, violated by the Void’s persuasive tongues and taunts. He had caused grief among the crew—he had knowingly harboured the beast that was related to his mother’s death. He kept it close to his core, practically insulting his leader with its hidden identity. Could he do it again?

“I don’t know, Havve. What should I think?”

Havve's ruby gaze softened. “I think you’ve already made up your mind. It’s up to you to act upon your desires. Let go of the hesitance in your core—claim what is rightfully yours. Take back what was stolen from you—take it back, Strive. It was always yours in the first place.”

Strive's hand moved towards the vessel, its movements slow and forgiving as he reached for the beast’s form. He could hear it calling out to him, showering him with soothing whispers and a lulling embrace. It reassured his fears, softly cooing in its celestial voice; it apologized for all the harm it had caused. His vessel pulled him forward, promising him that everything would be alright—Strive believed it.

He couldn’t deny its existence any longer.

His palm grazed the vessel’s form. The ethereal beast reacted immediately, its beautiful exterior shimmering into millions of brilliant particles. The pieces melted into an angelic ball of light, quickly coiling their vibrant tendrils around his fingers. The amiable current travelled across his skin, playfully nipping at his hands. Strive smiled and admired the stunning display, gently directing their breathtaking dance towards his core.

The white light zipped into his glimmering gem, wrapping his body in a welcomed blanket of warmth. He sighed when his tender wounds began to relax in response to his vessel’s appearance. He revelled in the familiar feeling—he felt whole once more. 

For a while, Strive said nothing, keeping his back turned towards Havve. The robot grew concerned by the unexpected silence, his internal drumming kicking into a worried tempo. “Strive?” he called. 

Strive’s feathered ears twitched in response. He kept his stance firm, refusing to look at his companion while he spoke in a strained whisper. “After all those years my mother spent in the cosmos, she never once gave up on bringing back the stars. Not just the stars in general, but my specific star. The one that gave me life.”

He choked on his words. His shoulders began to shake, his flowing tears hidden by his deliberate posture. “If she could see us now, would she be happy? Would she be relieved? Does she know that her mission is almost complete?”

Havve remained silent. His ruby orbs became lidded with sympathy when he felt the boy’s emotions crash into him. He was well aware that Strive had figured out the final piece of his complicated existence. Not only his life, but the question that plagued their journey for countless years. Who could have known that their answers would be found in a single child? He held the key to victory—he held the stars in his eyes.

Strive suddenly turned. He faced Havve with glistening eyes as a stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks. A sorrowful smile wobbled across his broken features. He held his core in his trembling grasp, his hand doing nothing to contain the electrifying azure that escaped through the cracks. “It was always here. My guide, my life source, my starlight—it’s here, Havve. I’ve always had it. Even after all these years, we’ve managed to find each other again.

“It was never a vessel to begin with, nor was it ever a Void ship. It’s my star—my precious star has come back to me.”

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


Sung paced nervously on the sifting sands as time progressed at painstaking speeds. It had been hours since Havve had begun his pursuit on their maddened companion—it had been hours since Sung had heard anything back. 

The doctor was understandably worried—nearly hysteric, too—as he was forced to endure the silence from his partner. Usually, he’d be able to hear Havve’s thoughts and feel the emotional responses he was experiencing. It was unlike him to completely sever the connection, yet had chosen to do so. Although this display of individuality was a welcomed occurrence, now was certainly not the time. Sung wanted to know what was going on. He needed his partner to respond. 

“Still nothin’?” called Meouch. 

The feline was stationed by his ship, keeping Phobos company while he worked tirelessly to repair their damaged communications. While they were both incredibly worried for their crew members, they willed themselves to make use of their time by focusing on fixing their ships. The quicker they repaired their navigation systems, the sooner they could go out and find the duo. Although Sung’s help would have greatly sped up their progress, the doctor was deemed unfit to join on account of his anxious state.

“No, the connection is blank," replied Sung. "I’ve been trying for hours, but he won’t respond.” Sung walked in the same pattern as before, the sands having molded themselves into a noticeable path. He had been pacing ever since he told his crewmates the truth. “He pushed me from his mind the moment he took off after Strive. Whatever he’s going through, he doesn’t want me to know about it.” The doctor's chest gave a hollow ache. Havve didn’t deserve the pain of heartbreak; not again. He’d much rather endure the torture himself. After all, he was the one who caused it in the first place.

“Hmm, I see.” Meouch handed Phobos a strange tool, placing it in the rocketeer’s outstretched hand. “I can’t say how long the repairs will take, either. Phobos is workin’ as fast as he can, but this problem is provin’ to be a tricky lil’ bastard. If we ever want to travel through the gateway again, we’re gonna need to put some countermeasures in place.” 

“We’ll never set foot in another perennial bridge!” snapped Sung. “Not until they come back.” He gripped his injured shoulder out of habit, squeezing the tender wound as he tried to keep his composure. The injury had been wrapped, but it was sloppy, clearly a result of the doctor’s unsteady hand. He lacked focus. He lacked his usual sense.

“I never said we’d be leavin’ without ‘em,” Meouch growled. “I’m talkin’ about in the future. When we’re all back together.”

“And what if that never happens? For all I know, Strive and Havve could be lost in the desert forever! The silence, it’s killing me!” The doctor quickened his anxious pacing, walking back and forth at increased speeds. “Stars, this is all my fault. If I never kept those secrets, we could have—”

“Doc, snap out of it! I’m tired of hearin’ the same thing over and over again!” Meouch bristled by his ship as he listened to his leader drone on about his regrets. The beastie had come to forgive a few of the doctor’s errors, but he was still unbelievably pissed by the aftermath of his deception. “What’s done is done; ya can’t change what happened. I’m all for pointin’ out yer stupid mistakes, but even I recognize that now is not the time. We have a job to do, crewmates to find and safely recover. Ya can’t wallow in self pity forever, ya’ve got a team to lead! Ya’ve got yer duties to the Brigade!”

“And how do you expect me to lead when I’m clearly unfit for the job?!" exclaimed Sung. "A leader doesn’t lie. They don’t deny a child of their mother’s sacrifice. They don’t cause death, nor should they make stupid mistakes. As you can see, Meouch, I’ve done all of those things—I’m not fit to lead!”

“Bullshit! Ya can’t doubt yerself now, Sung. Where’s the man I admired? Where’s the fearless bein' who’s led us into countless battles, guidin’ us to victory when everythin’ seemed hopeless? Where’s the man who laughs in the face of danger? Where’s our leader now, huh?!”

“He should be dead! He should’ve been a corpse three years ago!” Sung growled wretchedly, baring his teeth at the hostile feline. He balled his hands into tight fists, his entire body consumed by furious tremors. “You heard what Strive said: he wished I was dead! And so he should! I’ve done awful things, Meouch, things that can’t be forgiven. I want Strive to be safe, I want him to come back! But—” he snarled out his words. “How can I face him again? How can I look at Avida’s child and see the hate he harbours for me? I only wanted to keep him safe, to shield him from the pain. Now, I’m nothing more than an agent of torment.”

Meouch huffed in frustration. “Ya can’t take his word when ya think about his condition—he wasn’t himself back there. Strive would never say those things if he was in control. Let’s face it; ya screwed up. I was furious with ya, but I came to understand what ya were tryin’ to do, no matter how misguided yer intentions were.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his fuzzy muzzle. “I’m still mad, but I get it. Ya always had his best interests at heart—ours too. It takes one hell of a leader to put the needs of others above himself."

His voice quickly rose to tremendous volumes, housing an element of deep admiration.

“I mean, damn it! Ya’ve been harbourin’ this pain for three years! Any normal man would've crumble under the pressure. But ya didn’t—ya continued the mission in honour of Strive’s mother. It takes courage to trudge through the horrors. It takes a leader to break past the hardships ya've endured.” Meouch clacked his fangs together and bit back a grin. “Ya may not believe in yerself, but I do. Always have, ya insufferable bastard. I’d trust ya with my life; Phobos would too.”

The rocketeer took a break from fixing the ship, offering a solemn nod in support of Meouch’s claims. He’d trust Sung without a second thought. Even after all the lies, he was still their fearless leader. 

The doctor froze, looking away from his crew members as conflicting waters filled his tightening chest. “Why? Why do you choose to follow me even when I’ve shared my past with you? Are you not repulsed? Are you not disappointed in my deception? How can you still trust me after the terrible things I’ve done?”

“I’m definitely upset with ya for withholdin’ such vital information," chastised Meouch. "But ya had yer reasons. I can’t fault ya for doin’ what ya thought was best for the kid. Ya wanted him to be spared from the heartache; my choice would probably be the same if I were in yer shoes. It was a tough burden for ya to carry all these years, one I’m sorry ya had to endure.” 

“Meouch . . .”

“What else can I say? I was mad at first. Now, I’ve gained an understandin’ for yer situation. Yer a tortured man, Sung, one who didn’t deserve this kind of anguish. I’ve heard yer stories and I’ve compared them to who y’are now. Yer’e no longer a heartless, selfish rogue without a purpose—yer’e our valiant leader, a man of courage, strength, and undying loyalty to the cause he vowed to complete. I choose to see ya as that. It’s up to ya whether or not ya prove me wrong in the future.”

Sung didn’t know what to say. His sullen gaze brushed over his crewmates, his chest nearly shattering from the intense emotions he was feeling. His vision prickled with warmth as tears threatened to spill over the edge. Even after everything he had done, they were still willing to forgive him? “Thank you, Meouch. Phobos. I . . . can’t even begin to express my gratitude. But your words, they mean nothing if Strive can’t bring himself to forgive my foolishness. He must surely despise my existence.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” hummed Meouch, showing an uncharacteristic amount of sympathy in his gravelly voice. “I have a feelin’ he’s already been exposed to some of the truth. With Havve by his side, I’m sure that hunk of scrap metal has been lookin’ out for him. With everythin' ya’ve told me about yer partner, I don’t doubt that he’s keepin’ the kid safe. He’s in good hands—er, multiple hands, I guess.”

Sung seemed unconvinced. “That’s to say if they’re still together. I have no way of knowing what’s going on.”

“Have faith in the robot. Yer’e both driven to protect the kid, yeah? I’m confident that they’re together—they’re safe, Sung. Sendin’ Havve was the best option for this situation. I trust yer judgement on that.”

The doctor said nothing, simply nodding his head. His pacing movements had begun to slow, his anxious steps having been calmed by his crewmate’s reassurance. They seemed confident in Strive’s ability to forgive him, assuring him that the child would hold no malice once he learned of the motivation behind his actions. Did he already know? Had Havve already confessed their deepest secrets?

How would the boy react when he learned of his celestial origins?

The edge of Sung’s peripheral suddenly exploded with feverish movements. He looked over at his teammates, observing their excited postures with a bewildered stare. He could barely hear Meouch’s quick exclamation as he pulled Phobos from the ship, pointing at the skies with a frantic claw. The doctor watched their strange behaviour, his pulse beginning to quicken once he understood the rest of the feline’s cry.

“Speak of the devil; I can hear him! I can hear that metal bastard’s ship!”

Sung jumped to attention, charging over to the feline with a blaring shout. “Are you sure? You can hear Havve?” he panted, his thunderous heartbeat nearly deafening his teammate’s voice. 

“Well, yeah!” Meouch seemed a little off-put by the doctor’s inability to notice his partner’s arrival—Sung was taken aback by his obliviousness as well. He should be able to sense Havve whenever he was near. “Give it a few seconds and yer’e gonna hear it too. . . . There! Do ya hear it now? It’s just beyond the dunes!”

Sure enough, the familiar tempo of Havve’s ship reverberated through the skies, a faint emerald glow dashing across the surrounding rocks. While they couldn’t see the ship right away, there was no mistaking its intimidating presence. Sung’s heart soared. 

It plummeted soon after. “What about Strive?” asked Sung, a worried shake invading his words.

“I don’t know,” said Meouch. A nervous rumble rolled to the top. “Maybe he’s in Havve’s ship?” 

The crew looked to one another with grim frowns while they listened to the increasing volume of Havve's drumming engines. So far, there was no indication that there was a second ship in the vicinity, just the robot’s sole vessel. With bated breaths, they waited beneath the crushing force of suspense. 

They watched as the emerald glow crept across the shimmering dunes—their hearts seized painfully. 

Then, they rejoiced when an azure streak rocketed across the desolate skies, catapulting its glimmering form above the terrain like a shooting star. Meouch let out a ferocious cheer, slugging his powerful arms over Phobos and bringing him into the celebration, inviting the rocketeer into a clumsy, but infectiously merry, jig. 

Sung kept his vision trained to the skies as he followed the brilliant strip of light. He beamed at the sight, marveling at the renewed sense of vigor the white vessel expressed. No longer plagued by sickness, the vessel careened above the land like it belonged there, finding security in the astral domain. The doctor smiled, only to feel his happiness falter.

He watched as the two ships prepared to take their landings, a pesky tremor beginning to spread across his entire body. Meouch and Phobos had no trouble running towards the descending vessels, but the doctor was frozen in place. Even as the ships kicked up a russet storm, he couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle. He felt helpless, trapped by the chains of terrible hesitancy. 

The vessels cut their engines—momentary silence slashed across the land like a blade. Time stood still in the scarlet clearing. 

Sung was absolutely terrified.

  
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The first thing Strive noticed was the force of a burly creature charging into him, finding himself wrapped in a fuzzy embrace the moment he called his vessel into his core. A cacophony of throaty purrs nearly deafened him while he wiggled beneath his teammate’s powerful grasp, sputtering out a mixture of greetings and relieved laughter. 

“Strive! Holy shit, I thought the worst! Yer'e here, yer'e back!” Meouch’s concern took an uncharacteristic twist as he purred louder, his rumbling relief sending Strive's vision into a jittery buzz. The feline fussed over him, releasing him from his embrace and kneeling to his height, carefully checking his entire form for any sort of injury. “Yer arms, they’re not as bad as they were before—ya lucky bastard! Ya lucky kid, ya . . . yer’e unbelievable. Thank the Stars yer’e safe! Please, never do that again! I nearly lost three lives durin’ those few hours!” 

The boy tried to speak, only to be cut off when Meouch suddenly brushed his head against his shoulder, his feline instincts kicking in as he expressed his happiness through affectionate headbutts. Strive could feel each rumble that rolled from his purrs, the bassy sound a strange—yet wholly welcomed—occurrence. It was rare to see Meouch express this raw of an emotion. To have him so open and vulnerable was something the Brigade hardly ever saw. 

Strive’s eyes softened and developed a misty sheen. He wrapped his arms around the beastie, burying his face into his fluffy mane. “Don’t worry,” he reassured his teammate, “it’s all under control now. Thank you for waiting for me, Meouch.”

Meouch returned the hug, cupping the boy's head in his paws while he held him close. “Ya scared us, Strive. We could’ve lost ya back there.” The feline’s shoulders began to tremble. “I was terrified, kid. I’m so glad yer'e back in one piece.” There was a slight crack to his voice, his words hitching with overwhelming emotion. Strive could see his whiskers quiver.

The two of them broke apart, each one sporting a relieved smile. Strive looked over the beastie’s shoulder, thankful to be reunited with another one of his companions. He grinned when the red and gold rocketeer crouched beside him, his presence silent, yet impossibly loud as his unspoken feelings flowed off his form. Phobos seemed incredibly grateful for his safe return.

The rocketeer offered his hand to Strive, an action he gladly accepted without hesitation. When their hands met, Phobos gently pulled him into a protective embrace, refusing to let go in fear of him disappearing from his grasp. 

Strive grinned at the sincere gesture, offering a few reassuring pats on the back. “I’m not going anywhere, Phobos. I promise.”

Phobos shook his head, keeping his arms wrapped firmly around his companion's form. He seemed determined to keep him in that one spot forever. Strive couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he accepted his fate, seeing no downside to remaining in his embrace for the time being. After all he had been through, reuniting with his friends was enough to send his core into a sentimental light show, inviting his companions into the reassuring luminance. 

After some time, Phobos decided it was time for him to let his young companion go—much to his anxious displeasure. The two of them parted, sharing a moment of laughter among those who were present. Meouch purred fondly, ruffling Strive’s cotton soft hair beneath his paws. The boy beamed happily, his feathered ears fluttering in delight as the three of them enjoyed their overdue reunion. A shadowy presence soon joined the gathering, his scarlet eyes flashing joyfully as he stood over his crewmates. Strive looked back, offering a wink to the artificial being—the two shared a few pleasant words in silence.

Amidst the laughter and cheery banter, Strive noticed a sullen form standing in the distance. The voices around him died down when he made his way towards their leader, his features having suddenly gone stoic as he approached the reserved figure. A nervous air developed among the crew members when Strive stood face to face with the doctor, neither uttering a word whilst they lingered in an uneasy hush.

It took quite a while before Strive could even muster the proper words. There were many things he wished to say to his leader, some of which he wasn’t sure he could properly articulate. He could tell the moment he walked towards him that the man was swamped with suffocating dread. These awful feelings tugged at his core, weighing it down with an overwhelming sadness. Sung’s face was set and unmoving, but there was no mistaking the slight tremble at his lower lip. His breathing was steady, yet visibly strained as he willed himself to keep control. Knowing that his return was the cause of such an unpleasant reaction, Strive felt a pang of guilt clutch his core. 

There were many things he wished to say, but it was probably best if he began with a simple start.

“Sung,” he greeted, his voice oddly monotone as he searched his core for the right words. The doctor visibly flinched; Strive cringed at his improper tone. He tried again. “Sung, I . . . I’m sorry.”

The doctor grimaced at his apology. “What have you got to apologize for, Strive? I’m the one who should be begging for your forgiveness. I’ve done terrible things—I’ve made awful choices that ended up hurting you. There’s no way I can describe how much regret I feel when I look at you.” He shook his head sadly, his voice low and mournful. 

Strive’s core faltered when he heard to the doctor’s words, his voice sending sorrowed shivers through his chest. While the man may not have been able to describe his regret, Strive could certainly feel its potent claws lunge for his throat. It was nauseating, a sickening force that nearly sent him to the ground. He despised this feeling—he didn’t want the doctor harboring such vile emotions.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “for everything you’ve been through.”

Sung looked up in disbelief. Strive could hear his heavy heart skip a beat. 

“I never got the chance to know my mother like you did. I only have early memories of her—you and Havve were with her longer than I ever was. For eight years, my mother joined you in the fight against the Void. I was told that she was brave, valiant, determined, and hopeful on every journey you embarked on. There was never a day where she gave up—never a day where she gave up on you.

“I’m sad that she’s gone, and I know that nothing can bring her back to us. I was led to believe she had been dead ever since she left the stratosphere—I had already come to terms with her death, even if it hurt to think about. But you. You had to experience a pain worse than mine. You found a new life thanks to my mother and I’m grateful that she could give it to you. I loved my mother—I know you did too.

“Havve let me see the box.” Strive saw Sung inhale sharply. “At first, I didn’t understand why you had kept her from me. I was angry. I felt betrayed. I thought you were selfish. But I now know that you only had the best intentions at heart. You thought it would be easier for me to accept what I already believed, and I find myself agreeing with you. It was like you and I had two different images in our minds—I had my mother, and you had Avida. 

“In her notes, I learned about all of your adventure. Each struggle you endured, the countless close calls, and terrifying ordeals were all recorded by my mother. She would write about the two of you, recording your progress through the years and the way the two of you developed into your own beings. She was so proud of you. If she saw you today, I think she’d be beaming with pride at the Brigade you’ve led”

Strive smiled sadly when the doctor’s composure crumble beneath his words. “While I’ll always be envious of the time you got to spend with my mother, I’m thankful that it was you. You made her dream a reality. You stuck with her crazy plans even in light of her death—you’ve carried on despite her passing. Whenever she was wrought with worry and missing her little Starlight, the two of you were there to comfort her, keeping her spirits afloat during her lowest points. You were always there for her and I can’t thank you enough—truly, you have my gratitude, Sung. 

“My mother crashed into the cosmos without her family by her side—you gave her what she left behind. The two of you became her family. In turn, you became _my_ family as well.” Strive approached the doctor, looking into his visor as a trail of tears fell from the man’s obscured vision. “I wanted to bring the stars back for my people. In my core, I wanted them back in my mother’s memory. You’re fighting for the same reasons—you want to fulfil her final wish. Let me help you make it a reality.”

The doctor was speechless, his entire body trembling at the mercy of his chaotic emotions. He had expected Strive to be repulsed in his presence. He was prepared for him to cast him aside, to denounce his hideous existence. To hear him readily offer forgiveness was astonishing. It was also incredibly heartbreaking. “Your mother meant the world to me,” he stuttered, feeling overwhelmed by his sorrows. “Avida was a shining light in the darkness. She gave me more than I can ever repay.”

“She never wanted you to feel lost in her absence,” said Strive, relaying what was written in his mother’s notes. “She only wanted what was best for you, even going as far as to sacrifice herself in order to keep you safe. She made the choice, so stop blaming yourself for her death. She recognized your potential for greatness—she wanted you to forge your own path; your own life, too. She never doubted you for a second, so why is your heart hesitant? You’re our leader, Sung. An amazing one at that. In this battle, I’d follow you to the ends of the universe without a second thought.” 

“You sound a lot like Avida,” whispered Sung, cupping a quivering hand over his mouth. He bit back a sob.

“Then take my words to heart. I wouldn’t say something unless I thought it was true—my mother was the same way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The doctor slowly nodded. 

Strive grinned. “Then let's see it through to the end—together.” He placed his hand above his shimmering core. “We’ll fight in my mother’s honour. We’ll fulfill the promise Avida made all those years ago. We’ll take back the stars and rid them of the Void once and for all! The Starlight Brigade will triumph over the eternal darkness!” 

The boy’s energy was unlike anything the doctor had seen before. His aura peaked to vehement levels as his passionate declaration nearly consumed him in a brilliant light. No longer tainted by the Void, Strive’s core was a blinding force to witness. Whatever he had been through beyond the dunes, it had certainly lit a tremendous fire in his soul. He looked nearly ethereal.

“The Brigade may have me as their guide, but I know a true leader when I see one.” For the first time since Strive’s arrival, Sung had managed to flash a smile. He looked down at the boy, seeming to possess a new found confidence and peace within his heart—it would take some time, but the shadows of his past were slowly beginning to dissipate beneath Strive’s fiery light. “Would you do me the honours of fighting by our side once again?”

“Is that even a question?” scoffed Strive, puffing out his chest. “I’d never turn my back on you guys.”

He let out a startled squeak when his leader hugged him tightly. 

“Good. Just checking,” Sung breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

Strive was frozen for a few moments, unsure of what he should do. Then, he slowly brought his arms around the man's torso, feeling a pool of tears well to the surface and break into a sob. The two beings cried on each other's shoulders as they mourned the loss of their treasured companion, each one crying over what had been lost upon her death. They also rejoiced, grateful for the connection she had managed to bring together in the end.

“I’m back,” Strive hiccupped as he buried his face into his leader’s scarf. He had cried many times on this mission, but this was the most painful one yet. It felt like his core was being ripped to shreds—he felt pitifully vulnerable. Yet beneath the care and concern of his companions, he let himself accept the vulnerability, leaving his broken spirits in the hands of his new family. “I’m back,’ he repeated.

Sung nodded, biting back a few sobs of his own. “Welcome back, Strive. Welcome back, little Starlight.”

  
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“It’ll take us a few hours to get there. Once the communications are fixed, I’ll lead you to the next perennial bridge.”

The crew stood around their young companion with wide eyes as he described their next plan of action. With the knowledge he had gained during his possession, he was determined to make the most out of such a traumatizing ordeal. While he had endured terrible grief during the struggle, he had also gained valuable knowledge from the whispering scavengers. 

He had discovered that he could hear the Void ships—well, technically they weren't Void ships. Not anymore. After learning about his vessel’s origins and its peculiar circumstance, Strive had figured out the secret that had nearly driven the entire cosmos into insanity. An age old question that stumped many of the cowering victims beneath the blank skies—what exactly were Void ships? It was hard to convince his crewmates at first, but with Havve and Sung backing up his claims, the other two eventually came to accept the horrendous truth:

Void ships weren’t malicious demons, nor were they agents of the shadows. They were stars. Celestial beings that were poisoned by an unknown force, tainted by the master Void.

Strive had no way of knowing how it all started. By the time his home world has been claimed, there were already millions of scavengers established. Perhaps it all began as one tainted star. Maybe it was the doing of a devastating enemy, one they had yet to encounter for themselves. Whatever the reason, the crew was unable to pinpoint the exact cause for the stars’ demise. With their new knowledge, it was up to them to find a way to rid the Void of its endless influence, freeing the stars from its suffocating grasp once and for all.

Since he possessed the most knowledge on the beasts, Strive was put in charge of their next departure. At first, he was apprehensive of taking on so much responsibility. He had some doubts regarding his ability to lead his companions, especially since he was still considered a novice in terms of cosmic travels. However, he was determined to push past his fears and take charge with everything he had.

After a few rocky starts and tripped words, Strive slowly got the hang of being in control. His confidence grew as he explained each new detail and direction, his teammates offering their approval with encouraging smirks and content nods. They hungered for everything he said, drinking his words to the very last drop as he let his voice carry across the sands.

“Sung and Phobos will focus on fixing the ships," said Strive. He then turned to Phobos. "You said that Meouch’s repairs are nearly complete, right?”

The rocketeer nodded in confirmation; he had almost fixed the communication systems by the time Strive came back to their campsite. Had it been any longer, the team would've rocketed across the desert without a moment to lose. 

“Great. Once those are done, Meouch and I will work together and create a map to the next gateway. If everything goes well, we should have a map that’s ready to be distributed among the crew. It may take me some time for me to pinpoint the exact place the scavengers were referring to, but I’m certain that I’ll find it. The location is practically burned into my mind.”

The crew seemed happy with these directions. Strive’s plan was well thought out, utilising their time in the most efficient way. He couldn’t deny the burst of pride that furled in his core, an excited twinkle sparking in his chest when he beheld the impressed expressions of his companions. Perhaps the role of leader was something he could grow accustomed to. 

Everyone seemed content except for a certain robot. Havve cocked his head to the side in confusion, wondering why his name hadn't been called. He clicked his jaw together with a light tap, his internal hardware whirring in anticipation. “What about me, Strive?” he asked, his voice carrying an intrigued lift through their silent connection.

“Havve, you’ll be assigned to a little bit of everything. Since Sung is busy with the repairs, we’ll need someone to prepare meals while we work.”

Havve seemed displeased with having such a mundane task. “Really? Food duty?”

Strive tittered sheepishly. “Don’t put it like that. You’re making it sound like I just threw you onto the worst job possible! Think about it—multiple arms for multiple plates. It’s a vital service for the crew while they work on repairs. Someone’s got to keep them fuelled while they fix the ships.”

“I’m aware of the need for nutrition, but that doesn’t mean I’m pleased with the job. It seems quite bland compared to the task of getting our vessels in order.” Havve looked at his companions, choosing to ignore the puzzled frown that Meouch was giving; surely Phobos beneath his helmet as well. “What else am I tasked with?”

“Glad you asked.” Strive grinned at his metal teammate. “You’re not confined to cooking alone—you can still help with repairs when they call you. Also, we’ll need someone to keep a watchful eye on the clearing. You’ll be in charge of watching for any incoming Void ships or hostile intruders. I’ll be on high alert, too. If I sense any Void ships, I’ll tell you straight away. Since I’ll be busy with Meouch in his ship, this’ll help us get the information to the others quicker. Does that sound more to your liking?”

“Hmm, perhaps. Regardless of the job, I’ll follow your orders without complaint. I trust my leader’s judgement.” Havve’s voice raised in a mischievous click, his scarlet eyes narrowed as he emulated a smirk; he winked in the Moebian's direction.

Strive blushed in embarrassment at his companion’s comment. He wasn’t a leader by any means. His status as their captain would be short lived once they progressed in their mission. Besides, Sung was much more qualified to be their leader. 

“Alright, am I missin’ somethin’?” interrupted Meouch. He looked between Strive and Havve, his eyebrows arched in confusion. “Since when could the two of ya talk to each other? I thought that hunk of metal would only use his fancy-dancy telepathy with the doctor.” 

Sung guffawed loudly. “What? You jealous, Meouch?”

“Bah, of course not! I can hardly stand yer dumb voice as it is. Addin’ another one to my shoulders would be a nightmare! Keep yer secret connections to yerselves. I don’t want anythin’ to do with ‘em!” Meouch looked away with his arms crossed over his chest, a puff of air escaping his upturned nose. While he displayed annoyance, Strive could detect a bubble of admiration. He seemed impressed by his ability to tame the robot. 

“Anyways, back to the task at hand.” Strive called his team’s attention back to his command. “Everyone has a job to do. If all goes well, we should be able to take off by the next day. When everything is fixed and the proper counter measures are developed, we’ll charge into the next Bridge. Is that clear?”

Everyone nodded their heads. Before Strive has a chance to close the meeting, Sung’s anxious tone spoke above the group. “Are you sure that you can handle another trip through the perennial bridge? Our first encounter was less than ideal, specifically for you and your mental state. Are you not worried about another possession?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried about the next jump. But I think it’ll be okay. Now that I know what to expect, I think it’ll be easier for me to push back their influence.” He placed a hand above his core, feeling reassured by the presence that slumbered within. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

Sung pursed his lips in uncertainty. While there was no way he could fully dismiss his fears, he willed himself to have faith in his young companion. Ever since he returned from the edge, Strive seemed to harbour a renewed energy, one that could combat even the darkest of forces. Perhaps it had something to do with him learning of his strange existence, or maybe he was filled with new determination for the mission. Regardless of the reason, Strive appeared to hold more confidence in his core. More power, too. 

“I believe you,” said Sung, offering a small smirk. “You’re nothing less than spectacular, Strive. If anyone can push through the Void, it’s definitely you.”

Strive’s core flashed at the remark. He beamed happily at the man’s words, glad to see that he held faith in his decisions. The boy let his eyes wander over the surrounding crew members, noticing how their features were illuminated by his core’s light. They all waited dutifully for him to conclude the meeting, patiently awaiting his final commands. Strive’s chest swelled with pride—he wouldn’t trade the Brigade for the entire universe.

“Alright, guys! Let’s work on getting off this planet!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Trying to get back on track with these releases. Speaking of getting on track—the mission is finally moving back on the rails! After some heartbreak, it's time for the boys to experience some more harrowing adventures. More to come in the future, folks! We're nearing the home stretch!
> 
> Little things to get you excited—TWRP's new album 'Over the Top' releases on the 25th! That's five days from this publishing date! Very excited to hear the new tunes. I'm confident that these new songs will offer the best vibes possible. Personally, I'm looking forward to 'Top Secret' and 'Black Swan'.
> 
> In addition, I must bring your attention to the our translator's amazing work. Nexeliam has been working hard on translating this fic. They are currently up to chapter 7 in the French version! I highly recommend you check out their work if you are able to read in French. I love hearing the characters' voices in a different language. **And the illustrations! _Amazing!_** There are seven pictures that have been drawn so far, all of which are included at the start of the chapters on both the English and French versions. Go check them out! They're beautiful!
> 
> That is all for this week! Hopefully I'll bring you more content soon :^)


	23. Beneath the Eyes of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With new knowledge comes a new journey for the Brigade to embark on. With its position revealed, Strive and his companions set off for the next perennial bridge, carrying themselves with renewed courage and bravery. There's no telling what they'll encounter on their next jump—how does one prepared for a mission like this?
> 
> The shadows grow stronger as atrocious forces begin to emerge. Their new discovery is the thing of nightmares, its presence just as terrifying as its arrival more than a decade ago.

On swift starry wings, Strive led the way across the desert with a blinding resolve. He soared above the fluorescent sands, his core's light quickening in excitement despite the sliver of apprehension that lurked within. Biting back his hesitance, he persevered against the unknown, calling forth the fires of confidence as they approached their next target. Just beyond the dunes lay the next gateway, the tricky passage nestled away in a sandy trench. The warp would be impossible to find under normal circumstances. Lucky for the Brigade, their situation was anything but ordinary. 

Strive led the way, his senses trained on the whispers of the imprisoned stars.

He flicked his gaze to his viewing window once his team made contact, each of their features lighting up in time with the symphonic chimes on the screen. Their details were well defined, crisp and stable beneath their repaired communications. Strive grinned at the sight, pleased to see his oddball family once again. 

“We’re almost there,” assured Strive. “It’s a few minutes ahead of us.” The crew gave their collective nods, each one seeming to breathe a sigh of relief at the announcement. They had been travelling since the early hours of dawn—or what they had decided was dawn. Time never wavered in the neon desert, trapping the Brigade in a sort of temporal trap. Without any changes, one could go insane in the endless desert; they called it the Zone, finding no other words to describe the ominous land. Had it not been for their focus on their mission, they surely would have succumbed to the Zone’s madness.

The Brigade rocketed above the bone-white rocks, their individual engine lights washing the land in a prismatic display. Their presence would linger in the reflective surfaces for quite some time. Their colourful existence was one of the only things that gave the Zone any hint of character. Once they left, all life would cease in the desolate wastelands. Strive briefly wondered what the Zone would look like once the stars were restored—perhaps he’d like to rest beneath its skies. Maybe the rest of the Brigade would too.

“Are ya sure yer’e gonna be okay, Strive?” Meouch growled carefully. “Yer’e confident that the Void won’t get ya this time ‘round?”

Strive smiled softly, looking over the features of his worried companion. The feline’s eyes were trained on him, his eyebrows furrowed and creased. Ever since his return, Meouch has been rather keen in checking up on him. While this certainly warmed Strive’s core, he was determined to hold his own against the Void. The concern of his companions was touching, but they didn’t need to worry anymore. He refused to comply with fear any longer—his core sparked with the radiance of courage.

“You don’t have to worry about me," he assured. "I’ve got a hold on the darkness now. It can’t shake me anymore.” Strive’s fingers twitched over his controls. If he weren’t piloting his ship, he would have reached for his core out of habit. Even without action, his azure core drenched the vessel in a haunting glow, their brilliant flames shining with the same intensity as a star. The exact same. 

“Besides,” Strive continued, “I should be more worried about you guys. Our last jump wasn’t just bad for me. It took out all our communications and scattered the group across the desert. Will these new counter measures be enough?”

 _“Definitely. I pride myself on keeping these ships battle-ready.”_ Phobos’ voice crackled to life across the monitor, each unique buzz and beep perfectly captured into artificial speech. _“Once I figured out how to bypass the power of the perennial bridge, it was easy to transfer these modifications to the rest of our ships. Our communications should hold their own against the gateway—our tethers too. I underestimated the Bridge at first. I’ve learned from my errors.”_

“Don’t be so hard on yourself," said Strive. "No one could have anticipated the grief that tunnel would cause. I’m just glad that you guys won’t have any more issues.” .

Phobos beeped, brushing the back of his helmet sheepishly. _“Well, we_ shouldn’t _have any more problems. There’s always a possibility that—”_

Meouch rolled his eyes. “Bah, don’t start on yer probable-improbable bullshit now, Phobos. Let’s try to keep it optimistic, alright?”

 _“Ah, right. Sorry.”_ Phobos paused for a moment, seeming a little worried by one outstanding factor in their plan. _“Strive, you and I both know that I can’t do anything for your vessel. Besides the tether and shield I’ve stuck to your ship, I can’t upgrade your controls. You’re positive that you can keep your composure? The stress won’t be too much for you?”_

Strive shook his head. “Trust me, I’ve got it all under control now. Things will be different this time—I just know it.” His vessel’s wings trembled in anticipation for their next move, refusing to falter in the face of the unknown. He kept his eyes narrowed as steadfast flames danced across his vision. The fires coiled in his gaze, their magnificent shimmer nearly blinding those who dare meet his eyes. Then again, it was hard to look away—the boy’s resolve was incredibly alluring. Contagious too.

Phobos beeped in good humour, flashing a thumbs-up to the screen. _“I’ll take your word, Strive. I don’t doubt you for a second.”_

“Same here.” Sung chuckled. He looked to Strive with a confident grin, his newly established positivity rolling off him like an avalanche. He beamed at Strive as immense pride nestled its way into his words. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together. After all, what are friends for?” The doctor said fondly. “So, what’s next, Strive?”

The Moebian looked down at his map, watching as they closed the distance between themselves and the hidden gateway. Not that he needed a visual map in the first place—he was following the voices of his memories. With a vivid image in his mind, he could recall the exact location the Bridge was buried. It would take careful maneuvering on their parts, but the plan was doable. 

“We drop down,” he said simply.

“Drop down?” questioned Meouch. “Where? All I see are endless dunes and creepy rocks! There can’t possibly be a passage around here.”

“Just follow my lead and you’ll understand. Whatever you do, don’t stop for a second. There’s no telling how much time we have before more scavengers filter through that passage.” Strive grimaced when a dull headache began to fester in his head. “Not to alarm you or anything, but I can sense a few ships approaching in the distance. It’s really faint, so we should be safe for now.”

Meouch growled in displeasure. He pressed a few controls off screen, mumbling to himself in annoyance. “Damn ship hasn’t detected anythin’ yet. Are ya certain that . . .” Meouch shook his head, flashing his fangs through a smirk. “Bah, no questions. I trust ya, kid. Yer senses are gettin’ sharp. Havin’ y’around is pretty handy.”

It’s great until the headaches start," huffed Strive. “Then it becomes a nuisance to control. But we can talk about that later—are you guys ready to follow me?” The crew nodded. “Alright, the order goes like this: I go first. Havve stays behind me, followed by Sung, Phobos, and Meouch.” No one complained about their roles. Everyone agreed to their positions, though a certain robot couldn't help the intrigued spark that flashed across his eyes. 

“Just in case?” Havve questioned silently, alluding to his unusual spot in the formation. The robot thought back to their first encounter with the Bridge, hoping the past wouldn’t repeat itself.

Strive gave a subtle nod. “Just in case,” he repeated, keeping their quick exchange hidden from the rest of the team. 

One by one, each member cut their communications as the approached the scattered lands. The dunes had fallen into uneven waves, folding and hanging at odd—and practically impossible—angles. Numerous boulders lined the strange sands, jutting out from the earth like ghostly claws. It looked like some wicked nightmare, one the Brigade was about to dive into.

With everything in order, the team readied themselves for their dodgy descent. Strive had given very little details surrounding the gateway. The crew had no way of knowing how to access the tunnel, but Strive certainty did. With a strong swipe from his arms, he forced his vessel to plummet from the sky, its engine streaking towards the land like a fallen star. 

He led the ships into the rocky quarry, zipping through the harrowing spikes with the gracefulness of a trained acrobat. His vessel curled itself between the rocks, responding to each sharp movement he displayed. His eyes were wide as he focused all his attention on the difficult dance. One wrong move and he could find himself crushed between the deathly rocks. He should be feeling fear—instead, elation burned through his core. 

He quickly looked back, relieved to see that his companions were keeping up with him. Their ships were much bulkier than his own, but they had other advantages at their disposal. If things got too cramp, they could simply blast a path towards their goal. While certainly handy, Strive much preferred his passive ways. 

He spun in extravagant spirals, careened through the obstacles with blinding speeds, and plunged into the dark cavern at the end of the ditch. He willed his vessel to pick up speed as he passed through the entrance of the perennial bridge. Had it not been for the shivers that wracked his body, Strive would have no way of knowing if he had landed in the gateway. After his previous exposure, there was no mistaking the emptiness that filled his core. It chilled him terribly.

Strive’s arms wobbled when he felt the Bridge chip and tear at his vessel. A monotone sickness plagued the entire tunnel, dousing him and his ship in a pitiful grey shade. He grimaced when the bleakness threatened to grip his core. He huffed in discomfort when a familiar tension gnawed at his body, threatening to claim his mind a second time.

He shut his eyes tightly and heaved through the pains in his chest. Not like this—not again. He shook his head wretchedly as eerie whispers trickled into his mind, their velvety soft voices lulling him into despair. Trembles crawled across his arms, itching, pricking, and fueling the need to dig his nails into his skin. It was just as awful as the first time.

But he could fight it. He could push through the corruption.

Gritting his teeth, Strive opened his eyes and stared down the black and grey before him. A defiant growl roared from his throat, he tensed over his controls, and sent every ounce of his strength into piloting his vessel. The ethereal beast responded to his desires, keeping its composure as it tore through the ghastly tendrils of the gateway. Strive let out a deafening cry and pushed through the shadows, shattering the Void’s influence as he sped through its reaching grasp. 

“Not this time,” he panted. “You won’t take us again!”

He and his vessel charged through the electric bolts of the passage, ignoring the sizzling discomfort that prickled his skin upon impact. The tortured voices of the Void’s disciples were banished from his mind, each of their haunting drawls failing to pierce his brilliant core. Strive felt a pang of guilt coil in his chest—they’d have to wait for a while. Soon, they’d be free from the Void’s prison. 

Strive grinned wildly as he watched the gateway crumble around him, rejoicing once the heavy weight in his core disappeared. His chest throbbed with excitement when he neared the end of the warp. He craved freedom. He yearned to escape the desolate tunnel. With an extra blast of energy, he catapulted through the passage without a moment to lose. 

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


A tremendous explosion reverberated through the air when Strive crashed through the gateway, his breathtaking speeds managing to upset the balance of the atmosphere with a thunderous ‘crack’. His vessel whistled through the veil as its powerful engines lit up the blank skies. Stark white light pulsated across the barren terrain, illuminating the pitch black rocks that muddled the wasteland. Strive looked back and hollered triumphantly when he saw his teammates emerge from the Bridge, each member managing to escape without any sort of damage. 

Even their communications remained unscathed. Strive’s ears twitched upwards when he beheld his boisterous companions on the screen, their smiling features mimicking his current mood.

“Absolutely flawless!” praised Sung as he curved his ship beside Strive’s. “Great work! Stars alive, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you, but you’ve proven yourself time and time again. I should probably stop fussing so much.”

Strive stifled a laugh. “I’ve been telling you that for some time now!” He checked his monitor, slowly dragging his eyes over each of his companions. “Is everyone alright?”

 _“Yes”_ chimed Phobos. He gave a hearty wave across the monitor.

“Of course,” said Havve, his ruby orbs overtaken by a feverish glow.

“Bah! I hate those blasted gateways!” Meouch’s irritated growl rumbled across the intercom. “Those electric currents are nothin’ more than a nuisance! Damn things are tryin’ to make me look like a fool!”

Strive wasn’t sure what the feline was referring to at first. He peered into his companion’s screen, reeling back when noticed what had gotten the beastie so annoyed. Meouch’s navy mane had puffed to nearly two times its original size, his fuzzy coat sticking up at irregular points as he involuntarily bristled in his seat. The feline bared his fangs in embarrassment, the front of his muzzle barely managing to poke through the static friction. This strange creature was no longer their frightening companion—he was transformed into a walking-talking cotton ball. 

“Quit yer laughin’!” hissed Meouch. His paws worked frantically to brush back the static mess, only to recoil in rage when his actions worsened his condition. Since Strive had been separated from the others on their first trip through the gateway, he didn’t have the chance to see his companion in such a comical state. The boy howled with laughter at the absurd sight.

“Quite the show, huh?” teased Havve in his mind. Strive sputtered helplessly when he heard his teammate jeer at the feline. The robot’s scarlet eyes narrowed into a contemptuous sneer, his jaw hitched upwards as he gave a silent guffaw. It was an odd thing to listen to—laughter without the actual laugh. A sound that was unique to the strange being. 

After a few bouts of unfiltered snickers, the crew gave Meouch a few moments to calm his wild appearance. The feline grumbled a few coarse words, turning off his screen while he got his bearings in order. While the monitor was dormant, Phobos made a remark about how the beastie was most likely grooming himself like the animal he was. Within seconds, Meouch’s furious muzzle bore into the screen—he had a small comb in his paws, one he was using to tame his navy mane. It took all of Sung's power to break up their trivial argument before it progressed any further. 

“As much as I love poking fun at Meouch’s habits,” interrupted Sung, “we’ve got to focus on the task at hand. Havve, what’s this planet like? I can hardly see anything down there.” 

“It’s not ideal,” he whirred, his silent voice reaching Strive as well. “While there is oxygen available, it’s incredibly thin—you’ll have to wear the filtration masks whenever you step outside. In addition, there seems to be elevated levels of sulfur in the air.”

Strive stiffened in his vessel. “Void ships,” he growled.

“Most likely," said Havve. "The land below us is quite barren, though there _is_ one element I find myself intrigued by. There seems to be bits of debris covering the surface of the planet. The material is not native to this environment—I can’t identify the substance.”

“Then we’ll go take a look,” hummed Sung. “Anything else we should be worried about?”

Havve shook his head. “Beside the air quality and the possibility of Void ships, I can’t find anything else to look out for. Either way, we should remain on our toes at all times. These are strange lands, Sung. I don’t trust it for a second.”

“A wise choice, my friend. We’re in Void territory now. We can’t afford to be careless even for a second.” Sung quickly relayed his partner’s observations to Meouch and Phobos, placing special emphasis on the need to be wary. “If it’s alright with you guys, I say we take this opportunity to rest in a safe spot. We still don’t know what kind of planet we’ve landed on.” The doctor seemed to be addressing Strive in particular, subtly asking for his permission to take charge of the group.

Strive found no drawbacks to this. He gave a nod and slowed his engines from the front, gradually falling behind their leader.

With Strive’s signal, the doctor motioned for his crew to follow him to the ground. The man kept his descent unusually cautious as he neared what could only be assumed as some type of terrain. It was difficult to distinguish any shapes on this planet, the environment nearly as black as the Void ships themselves. The only indication they had was the faint reflection of their lights against the surface of the planet's rocks. Their ships rattled the stones upon impact.

One by one, the Brigade nestled their ships beside one another. It was nearly impossible to see anything without a light source, even more so when Havve recommended they turn off their ships' power. 

“Why’s that?” questioned Meouch across the line. He was currently fitting a specialized filtration mask over his muzzle. The beastie grimaced when his whiskers and mane were pressed uncomfortably beneath the clear barrier. Although the mask has been specially crafted with his feline features in mind, they still failed to account for his sensitive whiskers. With an irritated huff, he latched the mask securely in place.

“He says the ship’s lights might give away our position,” answered Strive. He was currently fiddling with a mask of his own. It took a few tries before he could successfully equip it to his face. He was thankful that Sung had given him the equipment before they had left the Zone. “We’d be noticed immediately by any passing scavengers,” he called behind his mask. He didn’t fully understand the technology yet. All he understood was that a constant chemical balance kept purified air flowing through the filter. Regardless of the specifics, it felt pleasantly cool in his lungs.

“Hmm, I guess he’s got a point. Alright, be out in a sec.” Meouch’s image materialized off the screen—the indigo glow of his ship quickly faded. Like clockwork, the rest of the Brigade silenced their vessels and snuffed out their brilliant lights. Reluctantly, Strive was forced to do that same. 

He slowly emerged from his vessel, placing a cautious foot on the shattered lands below. He shivered when the stones clacked together with hollow ticks, their jagged remains crunching horrifically with each new step. Strive felt growing unease fester in his centre—his light flickered nervously. He quickly called his ship back into its resting place, feeling a little more calm once they were together again.

He carefully approached the shadowy forms of his teammates, each one shrouded in the overwhelming darkness of the planet. He could scarcely make out their features beneath his core’s azure glow. His vision trailed over his companions—he jumped back in surprise when Meouch’s eyes glared back at him, a strange, yellowish glass overtaking his sharp pupils. He looked absolutely terrifying in the shadows.

The boy's core flashed wildly in response, accidentally illuminating the sterile terrain. 

With a begrudging frown, Sung walked over with a cloak in his arms. “Sorry, Strive. You’ll have to cover up for now. We can’t risk them discovering our position; your core will lead them right to us.” The doctor’s voice was heavy, his usual cadence muffled behind his mask. He knew how much the boy hated covering his light—Avida had despised it too. 

Strive grimaced when he was forced to hide beneath the suffocating material. The clearing was washed in a terrible bleakness once the azure light was contained by the scratchy fabric. An aura of unease buzzed from his teammates when their only source of light was gone—they had grown to find great comfort in Strive’s glow. Without it, they felt extremely troubled.

Despite the darkness, it would seem that everyone was able to navigate the rocky terrain without much difficulty. Strive relied on his hearing for the most part, choosing to stay close to the familiar footsteps of his companions. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Why aren’t you bothered by the darkness?” he asked his leader.

“Trust me, we’re bothered by it,” Sung shivered, “but we have ways of dealing with the shadows. Havve’s optics are hardwired to see in the dark. Both Phobos and I have correctors implemented in our helmets. As for Meouch—well, his species is built with natural night vision. You could probably tell by the way his eyes reflected your core’s light.”

Yes, Strive recalled the startling sight. He hadn’t known the feline possessed such a trait. 

“If you want to see better, take off your UV contacts. They dampen your vision even in the dark.” The doctor tapped his visor, signalling his obscure action through distinct sounds. “I think you’ll find it easier to get around once your natural eyesight is restored.”

Strive nodded slowly. He crouched to the ground and began sifting through the small pockets of his boots. He only put a few things in there, more so because he couldn’t take much with him to begin with. He held onto three items at all times: his photon dagger, the contacts case, and the withered pentrawren his mother had kept in her notes. It was risky to have such a delicate item on him, yet he refused to part ways with the precious bloom. He kept it close so that a small piece of his mother would always be with him. 

He found the case without much difficulty. He grimaced when he was charged with the unpleasant task of removing the contacts. He blinked feverishly as he fumbled with the finicky shields, his eyes tearing up from the foreign action. After a few painstaking tries, he managed to get them out. Blurry splotches invaded his vision while he blinked back uncomfortable tears; he rubbed his eyes, cursing the technology and its tedious nature.

He looked up, gasping when his world suddenly became brighter. He dragged his eyes across his teammates, their individual features perfectly visible despite the planet’s lack of light. After being exposed to the blinding sun for so long, he hadn’t realized how refined his night vision actually was.

“Moebians are naturals in the dark,” chuckled Sung. “While not as strong as Meouch’s vision, you’ll certainly get by for now. Avida made use of her night vision a few times on our journey—it was pretty useful. Saved us the trouble of making her a specialised visor.” The doctor smiled sadly when he remembered his past with the woman. He seemed much more willing to share a few bits from his history now that the Brigade knew of her existence. A heavy weight seemed to have lifted from his chest as a result. “C’mon, there’s something I want to check out.”

Sung motioned for his team to huddle around the jagged rocks. He kneeled onto the onyx shards, carefully grabbing one of the pieces for a closer look. “What do you make of this?” he asked his teammates, twirling the ominous object between his fingers, marveling at the way it chilled his skin upon contact. 

Meouch was the first to take a look. His reflective gaze narrowed on the mysterious material. “It looks like some type of glass . . . but it can’t be. It’s way too tough.” He grabbed the onyx shard, tapping it harshly with his claws. “It’s not obsidian. I’ve worked with the material a few times durin’ my early smithin’ days. This thing doesn’t match at all. Whatcha thinkin’, Phobos?”

The shard was passed to the rocketeer. He scratched his helmet in confusion as he twiddled the piece in his gloves. He shook his head in defeat—he passed it to Havve. 

The robot didn’t even keep it for a second before handing it to Strive. 

“I have a thought," Havve said. "But I won’t say it until you get a closer look. Tell me, Strive: what does this remind you of?”

Strive took the object in his hands—he felt an immediate chill claw at his core. He staggered back with a gasp, the onyx shard falling to the ground with a hollow emptiness. His teammates looked at him with great concern, their bodies tensed in reaction to his surprise. Strive quickly raised his hand to calm his companions. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he breathed, palming at his core through the dense fabric. “You’re not going to believe me when I say this, but it looks like a part of a shell. I . . . think we’re standing on the remains of Void ships.”

Collective groans and hisses filled the graveyard. Everyone bristled in discomfort at the thought of standing on the dismantled corpses of their enemy. Phobos began to fidget, only to stop when his nervous steps caused the shards to clack into one another. The sound was so simple, yet deviously nauseating. 

“That’s quite the claim,” mused Sung. He sifted through a few more of the shards, carefully observing their cracked surfaces. “But why would they be here? It’s almost like the aftermath of battle. As far as I know, nobody but the Brigade has had the courage to go against the Void. To see a planet full of their remains is . . . surprising, to say the least.”

Strive dragged his eyes across the devastating sight, trailing his gaze well beyond their current position. He traced the Void remains above his line of vision, disturbed by how endless the graveyard seemed to be. His core tugged painfully as conflicting emotions swam through his chest. While the corpses of the Void should be a reassuring sight, it filled him with a terrible sadness.

These beasts were once stars—they hadn’t done anything to deserve such a grim fate. There was no telling how many of their bodies had been dismantled in the field. Strive shivered when thought back to a few moments from their mission. He and Phobos had purposely killed a Void ship. He'd been cheering alongside Havve when he finished off seven stray scavengers. In the Brigade’s short history, there was no telling how many Void ships had been destroyed under their force.

How many stars had been snuffed out by their misguided weapons?

Strive shook his head wretchedly and he balled his fists in frustration. He couldn’t fault any of them for their actions. Until recently, none of them had known about the Void ships’ identity. If they wanted to survive another day, dismantling the scavengers was the only way they could prevail. It was awful, but it had to be done. In the end, it would all be for the greater good of the cosmos. Strive had to accept this.

For now, he had bigger things to worry about—what kind of monster had destroyed so many ships? This was well beyond the capabilities of the Brigade. If the rest of the cosmos was cowering beneath the Void’s shadow, then who was responsible for this much destruction?

“I’m going to look over here,” called Sung. He walked to a different part of the graveyard and picked up a few more shards for his examination, his mouth set in a worried frown as he slowly shuffled across the debris. Strive could feel the anxious aura that plagued him. He seemed to be thinking of the bigger picture as well.

One by one, the crew broke apart and began surveying their surroundings, staying mindful as to how much distance they were putting between one another. Meouch and Phobos lingered near their ships, chatting quietly about the next plan of action. Strive could just barely see their silhouettes against their vessel as they worked to calm the nervous air in the clearing. Meouch’s hackles were raised, the only remedy being the silent dialogue he shared with the rocketeer. It wasn’t just Strive and Sung who were dreading the unknown; everyone was unsettled. Dreadfully so. 

Strive heaved a sigh and crouched near the shards, his fingertips gently grazing their broken forms. Were these the stars from his world? Had he gazed upon their shining forms before? Were they the same ones that fussed over him in his youth, just as his mother did? Their fond and loving whispers—had they been claimed by the darkness?

He slowly placed a lone piece into the palm of his hand, carefully turning it in his grasp; he inhaled sharply. Without any light sources, this small discovery was nearly overlooked by the rest of the crew. But Strive knew what it was immediately. His eyes widened when he brushed his fingers over the dusty residue, a slight tingle tickering at his skin. Stardust.

Even in their final moments, these poor creatures held onto their precious starlight. Strive looked across the desolate fields, watching as his crewmates stepped over their disassembled bodies. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see the tiny puffs of stardust that erupted from the impact. He bit back a furious snarl. He no longer saw this as the Void’s graveyard. His team was standing on the aftermath of a celestial genocide. 

Strive felt red hot rage boil in his core. He let out a low growl, chaotic emotions beginning to swirl through his chest. But this anger wasn’t his own—it was his vessel’s. His star was just as appalled as he was. Its energy thrashed about his core, an anguished scream escaping it while it mourned the loss of its brethren. It held sickly guilt as well, despising itself for ever leaving them in the first place. Strive clutched his core as sympathy took hold. What a woeful creature he housed in his soul. 

Without any warning, his core lit up in ferocious azure flames, the agitated brilliance managing to seep through his cloak. Strive stifled a gasp when the clearing became shrouded in a blinding light. The crew turned their heads towards the source, their eyes widening as their cover risked compromise. They rushed over the Strive, a nervous air beginning to develop. 

“Ya gotta tone it down!” hissed Meouch. “Now’s not the time, Strive!”

“I know that!” Strive exclaimed. “I’m not the one doing it. It’s my star! It’s reacting to something!” He felt a sharp pain pierce behind his vision, the intense feeling causing him to stagger in place. He clutched his head, grimacing from the pressure within his tightening chest. He could hardly catch his breath. “It’s here . . .” he found himself saying. “Stars alive, it’s here!”

Sung shook his shoulders, turning him in place so he could look him in the eyes. “What’s here? Are you sensing more Void ships?”

“No, it’s worse. So much worse!” Strive winced when the celestial voice screeched through his thoughts. He couldn’t stop himself. Words that weren't his own began to tumble from his mouth. He whipped his head to the desolate skies, his mind succumbing to his star’s fears. “It’s here—the Void is here!”

“What do you mean? How many ships?!” Sung yelled.

Strive shook his head and listened to the pitiful wails of his life source. “Not ships, Sung. _One_. It’s just one—it’s the Void. It’s the _original_.”

“The original . . . you don’t mean—” The doctor staggered backwards, his hands trembling something fierce.

Strive nodded. He had seen it once; it still haunted his darkest dreams. He had the terrible pleasure of watching it tear his stars to pieces on that fateful day over a decade ago. He could still see it—a hauntingly perfect prism, its presence vile and unforgiving as it claimed the lives of his celestial companions. It was glutinous, tearing its claws into everything it touched. It tore, it maimed, it mutilated the stars without remorse. 

Now, the nightmare had returned.

Strive clutched his core in desperation. “You guys need to hide! Find a pile, a ditch—anything! Don’t let it see you!”

“We’re not gonna leave ya!” hollered Meouch. He looked around the clearing with a frustrated growl when he realized how exposed they were beneath the child’s light. “Can’t ya calm that eyesore down?”

Strive grimaced at the poor choice of words; he was reminded of the reactions back on Moebius. Pushing aside his bitterness, he scrunched his cloak into a suffocating pile, forcefully shoving it into the blinding light. It worked somewhat, but his star was still wailing in fear—it was an awful feeling to endure, a cry that nearly sent Strive to his knees. “I’m trying! Just get away from here. You won’t be noticed if you're far away from me.”

“Strive,” said Sung. “We’re not going anywhere. I’ll be damned if I let that thing take you again.” The doctor kept his voice calm despite his trembling form. He had to keep it together for everyone's sake. “You’ve got to take control. I know you can.”

“But Sung, it’s not me! It’s my star, it’s—”

“It’s a part of you, Strive. Don’t let its fears overwhelm you. Push through the terror; remember that we’ve got your back! Nothing will ever take you again. Not while we’re here.” The doctor gave a reassuring smile. “Now’s not the time to give up—overcome it! If anyone can do it, it’s you. Take that fear and turn it into courage!”

Strive looked at the doctor with an astonished pause. Reassured by his leader's words, he focused on quelling the fears within his core. He wasn’t scared—it was his star that was projecting these feelings. Whatever it had been through with the Void, it had certainly been a horrifying ordeal. Strive felt sorry for its trauma; he wanted to help it. He wanted to heal its scars. He understood its terror, but he refused to cower any longer. Now was not the time for crippling doubt—they had to be brave. Together.

The clearing gradually sunk into darkness once the azure light retreated back into its resting place, its fears having been soothed by the boy's assurance. Strive heaved a sigh of relief, feeling as if a pressure had been lifted from his chest. He relaxed his palm and slowly removed it from his core, thankful that the ethereal creature had listened to him. Suddenly, his ears lowered in discomfort as a nauseating pressure ebbed into the clearing. He looked up at the skies with a sharp gasp, his core plummeting to the pit of his stomach. 

“We need to move!” Strive yelled. He grabbed the hands of those who were closest to him, hastily yanking their leader and mechanic away from the center of the clearing. He motioned for the rest of the team to follow. 

The crew bolted for the nearest bit of covering. One by one, each member tumbled down the sharp incline of the pit, quickly pulling each other down the hill in order to avoid detection. The last to arrive was Havve, his scarlet eyes purposely dimmed while his quiet whirrs rattled his form. The robot looked upwards one last time, his internal drumming kicking into a clamorous storm at the sight before him. He placed a grasper on each of his teammate’s heads, pressing them down as his hid them from the approaching abomination. 

With bated breaths, the crew listened to the dreadful hum that reverberated through the atmosphere. Its demeanor was beyond intimidating. It shook the entire terrain with ease, the disassembled shards rattling in unison as they cried beneath the abysmal monster. The crew kept their heads low, having no way of knowing if the beast had seen them or not. Besides its terrifying presence, all seemed eerily calm across the clearing.

Until they heard the screaming shot of a weapon.

A deafening explosion ripped through the skies like a sonorous blade, prompting the Brigade the look up in absolute horror. Their eyes widened when they beheld the ghastly form that loomed above the land. Strive felt his core’s light quicken in response. It was just like the first time he had seen it—positively monstrous. The Void hovered over them with its menacing presence, the sheer amount of pressure it radiated enough to choke them out. Each member felt their throats close to suffocating levels. They trembled beneath the incredible force. 

Strive found himself consumed by irate tremors. He seethed in his spot while he watched the creature fulfill its wicked desires.

He saw a lone scavenger zip around the Void’s enormous form, its movements seeming rushed and wrought with panic as it fled from the creature. The scavenger hurried through the skies on pitch black wings, only they weren’t completely dark—a trail of dazzling light stuttered behind it. Strive gasped and watched its unstable form break apart, its jagged edges gradually shedding in the wind. He could see it clearly now; underneath the onyx layers was the unmistakable glow of a runaway star. 

Strive jumped to his feet, only to be pulled back into the ditch by Havve. He looked at the robot with crazed eyes, his gaze filled with liquid hatred. “Don’t you see what it’s doing?!” he hissed. “It’s killing them—it’s slaughtering the stars before our very eyes!”

He watched helplessly as the star’s speed began to decrease, its brilliant light slowly fading once it lost its fight against the Void. A haughty confidence crashed into the clearing, the disgusting sensation nearly sending Strive to the ground. Havve steadied him in his grasp, remaining mindful as to keep a hold on their riled companion. Suddenly, a viridian light materialised in the center of the beast. Strive cried out in horror when the Void fired its weapon.

In the blink of an eye, the runaway star was consumed by sickly flames. The ethereal beast fell from the sky like a wingless creature, its radiant glow fading before it had a chance to hit the ground. There was no sound upon its impact with the planet, only a deathly silence that stretched across the land. 

Strive couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think either. All he could hear was the anguished cry of his star as it cried for another one of its fallen companions. 

Havve kept his graspers firmly in place while he wrestled with the enraged child. Strive fought with all his might and tried to free his vessel from his core; he wanted revenge. He wanted to tear that damned beast apart. He wanted to charge through its form and compromise its hideous existence. He wanted to destroy it, relishing at the thought of picking it apart with meticulous precision.

“Don’t even think about it!” growled Sung, taking hold of his thrashing form. “You’ll be killed the moment it lays eyes on you! Now’s not the time for stupid bravery. We seriously need to think of a plan!”

“I’ll kill it,” Strive snarled. “I don’t care what happens to me. I’m going to rid the cosmos of that vile monster even if it's the last thing I ever do!”

“Enough!” Sung pulled Strive down by his arm rather harshly. “Never think that way again! You can’t charge into certain death without a care in the world! Saying that you don't care about what will happen to yourself—what about us?! How would we function if we lost you to that thing?! Strive, I need you to think! We aren’t prepared to go against something that monumental, not yet. I know it pains you greatly, but we have to face the facts. We’re not ready yet!”

“You don’t understand! They’re all suffering! They’re trying to get away; they want to free themselves from the Void! Without the Void’s influence, they can break away from its control. B-but they . . . Stars, they can never escape. Not while that monster has a hold on them.” Strive looked at the shards that muddled the dreary land. His eyes watered as a fierce pain mauled his core. “Look at how many have failed to get away. We’re standing on their graves, Sung. Our stars are dying. They’re being murdered!

“I finally understand why my star came back. It was one of the few who managed to escape the Void. It traced a path all the way back to my planet in hopes of finding help. Even after all the years we were separated, it still managed to find its way back home. It sought me out, reacting to my desires to bring back the stars. It wants help; it wants justice for the cosmos.” He bared his teeth in disgust. “They didn’t deserve this. They were the galaxy’s precious treasure. When they were violated, we viewed them as demons; a sinister force that caused nothing but hate and despair. How wrong we were. They’re not our enemy, they’re victims.

“Strive . . .”

“Please, Sung. We can’t give up on them now. We have to help them. We have to stop the Void before it steals all of them.” He let out a shaky breath, the cooling essence of the mask failing to control the fires in his chest. “We have to free them before they claim any more lives. Innocent lives—just like my mother’s.”

Their leader stiffened at the mention of his past companion. “I know. Stars alive, I know! I’m willing to risk it all in order to destroy the Void, but . . .” he shook his head, “not at the expense of your life. Or any of the lives of my friends. If we’re going to fight, I want to be confident in our final charge. I refuse to go in without a plan. Please understand me, Strive. As much as I want to join you in tearing that thing apart, I have my responsibilities to the well-being of my crew. That includes you as well.” He smiled sadly. “Avida would have my head if I ever put you in danger.”

Strive heaved a great sigh when he looked up at the skies, watching with a doleful glance as the Void slowly drifted into the unknown. He watched the wretched creature disappear from their sight, its pitch black vastness blending into the bleak horizon. It pained him to be so close to their target and having nothing to show for their efforts. But Sung’s words rang true through his mind—now was not the time to be a brave fool. They needed a plan, one that would carry them towards victory. 

“You’re right. We’re going to need more than luck if we ever want to come out of this alive.” Strive wiggled his way out of the robot's grasp, assuring his companion with a small pat on his graspers. “There’s no telling how much power that thing holds. I have a feeling that we’ve only witnessed a fraction of its overall strength. We’re going to need a lot of fire power if we ever want to break through those defences.”

“Aye, ya got that right, Strive,” rumbled Meouch. At the mention of weaponry, his reflective gaze sparked to life. “If ya give me enough time, I could equip our ships with better weapons. Our ships are pretty good as is, but we’re gonna need an upgrade for somethin’ as intimidatin’ as that monstrosity. Not only weapons, but our own defences as well. Phobos, could I count on ya to work alongside me?” 

The rocketeer jumped to life, pounding his fist proudly over his pleated chest. His fingers twitched in excitement at the thought of working on their ships. Fixing their communications had been a difficult, but highly rewarding experience. As a result, he yearned for the chance to work on another complicated task. At the mention of defence upgrades, his entire body shivered in anticipation. He quite liked working in that particular field.

“That’s the spirit, buddy! Doc, do ya think ya can examine those Void shards for a weakness? It’ll be easier for me to work on the offense if I know the exact energy levels those things are vulnerable to.”

Sung twirled one of the slates between his fingers. “I suppose. Our current weapons are only effective because they hold so much power; it takes up way more energy than it should. It’s kind of reckless if you think about it." He studied the Void shard carefully. "Until now, I’ve never had the chance to properly examine their unique structure. If I can pinpoint their exact breaking point, we could utilize our ships to the fullest potential! Brilliant idea, Meouch!” 

Meouch scrunched his muzzle up in embarrassment. “Bah, don’t start flatterin’ me now! Ya can thank me when we actually manage to create these dream weapons.”

“It shouldn’t take me too long to crack the code," said Sung. "I’ve faced formulas that have lasted me for years! Synthesizing a solution is child’s play as far as I’m concerned. First we'll—”

Strive looked between his teammates as they babbled on about complicated formulas, difficult terms, and strange materials they planned to utilize during their research. He felt lost beneath the talk of their mastered trades. Even Phobos was in on the conversation, his body movements practically another language by this point. 

“I hadn’t realised how clever Sung was until they started talking about all this science-y stuff,” he whispered to Havve. “It’s hard to remember that this man is an immortal genius.”

“Trust me, Strive. Sung’s wits have reached across the galaxy in more ways that you could ever imagine. During his early years, he’s been credited as the creator of countless formulas, scientific solutions, accidental cult followings, fashion movements, musical instruments—if you can think of something, chances are that Sung’s had something to do with its creation. That man has been everywhere; insanity can’t even describe his eccentric nature. Eternal boredom will do that to a being. You’ve got to fill the time somehow.”

“That’s incredible,” he breathed. How could one man have so much influence on the entire universe?

“You’re quite familiar with the Bridge by this point, right?” asked Havve.

Strive nodded.

The robot held a slight snicker in his voice. “Well, you can thank Sung for that. It only took him a few decades, but he had been crazy enough to find the formula for intergalactic shortcuts. That was . . . oh, a few million years ago? Regardless of the time frame, Sung had given the cosmos a vital way of travel. Of course, this was during the time he held a bit of an ego. He gladly publicized the formula in exchange for devoted gratitude from insignificant creatures. He was a different being then. I’ll always be glad that he changed for the better.”

Strive smiled when he imagined his mother giving the man an earful whenever he got too full of himself. “Yeah, I’m glad too,” he chuckled quietly. 

The two companions sat idly as they let their teammate’s enthusiastic plans wash over them in a confusing wave. Havve understood some of what they were saying, but Strive was completely lost. If given the chance, he’d love to learn one of their trades in the future. For now, he was stuck paddling through their complicated explanations without so much as a single life jacket. Lucky for him, he had Havve to keep him grounded against the chaos.

“How will we be able to apply all these upgrades?” questioned Strive. “I don’t doubt their abilities in the slightest, but working in a place like this seems pretty impossible to me.” 

“Hmm, we’ll most likely have to travel back to Headquarters.”

“Back to Headquarters?!” exclaimed Strive. “But we’re here now! Couldn’t we ask somebody to meet us here and deliver our supplies? Or why not call for backup? Surely we could all rally against the Void and win!”

The robot shook his head. “You have to remember what our mission was originally. Getting to this point was supposed to take us an entire year. We’ve managed to jump across the cosmos in about a month’s time. All by sheer luck too. Had it not been for us discovering the perennial bridge, we’d still be drifting through the Wastelands on engine power alone. For an entire fleet to meet us here would take too long.”

“But what about the perennial bridges?”

“Way too dangerous for an inexperienced pilot. We barely managed to survive our first trip—our second jump was only possible after countless modifications to our original hardware. Sending our comrades into that gateway would be a cruel way to end their lives. Not only that, but how would they find it? We stumbled on the first one after scouring the lands on a hunch. You led us to the second one. Any normal crew member wouldn’t be able to replicate such impossible scenarios.” 

Strive gnawed at his lower lip. “So you’re saying that we have to leave this place . . . and let that thing roam freely? For how long?”

“Until we can hold our own against its strength.” Havve gave the boy a sympathetic glance. He raised a grasper to his hair, fluffing up the downy wisps with a few affectionate brushes. “Don’t be disheartened, Strive. We’ve all made it this far, so don’t let go—we’re so close to bringing them back.”

Strive gave a slight nod and peered at the vacant skies above. They were so close, painstakingly so. There had been countless close calls on their journey together—to have survived them all was unbelievable. To be able to smile after everything they’d been through was a miracle in itself. 

He let his eyes linger on the nothingness, and focused on his core’s fervent dance. His star was restless; he was too. Despite their underlying desire to charge head on into the Void, their efforts would be useless when they succumbed to the staggering force of the demon. No, for now they would have to wait and place their faith in the Brigade, a thought that managed to fill his chest with hope.

If anyone had a chance of banishing the cosmic disease, it would certainly be the Brigade. Strive smiled as a fuzzy fondness cradled his core. Nothing was impossible when he was with his teammates—failure wasn’t even an option at this point. They would prevail against the odds. That much was certain to the starry eyed child.

They had the whole universe resting on their shoulders. Now was not the time to hide. It was time to go back. To prepare for the Brigade’s final battle. It was scary to think about, but Strive accepted it with open arms. He couldn’t be afraid any longer—it was time to face their fears head on.

It was time to welcome their new reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( **Announcement:** There is a Russian translation of this story in the works! Thank you to LunaMiko for taking the time to translate this story; forever grateful for your kindness! You can find it on a different site: **[The Stars are in his Eyes (Звезды в его глазах)](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9894631)** )
> 
> Hello there! Checkin' in right away to ask if you've listened to the new TWRP album yet. It's amazing! Loved every song, especially "Roll With It", "Somewhere Out There", "Top Secret", and my new personal favourite "Black Swan"—the boys really went off on this album! Such an amazing treat to listen to!
> 
> Not much to say here this time around, but I hope you're all doing great, keeping healthy, and doing your best to balance school and work. To be honest, I'm finding that my courses are beginning to weigh on my mind; I feel quite weary, and it's only the start of Week Three! Nevertheless, I'll remain optimistic for the future. Things always have a way of figuring themselves out for the better, haha.
> 
> Stay tuned, folks. The fanfare for the finale is just beyond the horizons. Thank you again for reading this far! :^)


	24. Our Guiding Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a race a against time as the Brigade makes their charge towards the gateway, their future destination unknown as they hope for a miracle to appear before them. They take a gamble, one that could dictate how their journey comes to an end. Will the risks of reward outweigh the potential for disaster? 
> 
> Dazed and confused, the team drifts, a pair of shadowy eyes trained on them from beyond the desolate veil. Their gaze is unwavered, tracking the Brigade's every movement with a sinister drawl. Time advances—the end is near. 
> 
> In times of trouble, never falter. Never weaken. Never yield to the forces of despair. Oh, guiding Starlight, bring us towards our long awaited victory.

“That sounds like quite the gamble, Sung. Are ya sure ya want to go through with it?”

“Absolutely," said Sung. "It’s our only option right now.”

Hidden beneath the shadows of the land were each of the Brigade members, their forms huddled close while they lingered in a quiet hush, weighing the risks and rewards of their insane plan. Much like the card games they played back at Headquarters, this plan required them to take a monumental risk, one that could have the final say in how their adventure came to a close. It could give them an advantage or a huge disadvantage—there was no way of knowing until they tried.

Although the rest of the crew was looking towards Sung with uncertainty, it wasn’t actually his crazy idea to begin with; it was all orchestrated by Strive.

“Who’s to say we’ll actually end up in a good spot?” mumbled Meouch. He looked between the two beings, surprised by the confident grin they both shared. “This could set us back countless lightyears—parsecs, too! Hell, we might add an entire decade to our journey! Is it really worth the risk?”

“Think about it,” said Strive, his voice clear and unwavered as he addressed his crewmates. “We can’t go back the way we came since the portals always close behind us. To make it back to Headquarters on engine power alone would probably take us a whole year. We don’t have time for that. We need to get back as quickly as we can.” He suddenly turned to Sung. “How far out are we right now?”

“Judging by our environment and the distance we’ve jumped across, I’d say we’re pretty close to the gathering spot. Honestly, we’ve basically walked right into their domain with our arms waving and a neon sign that says ‘Here we are!’ ” Despite the grim news, the man offered a cheeky smirk and a positive thumbs-up. “Look on the bright side: we’ve technically succeeded in our quest! We’ve located the Void gathering!”

Collective groans rumbled through each of the team members. Meouch scoffed in annoyance, swiping his fuzzy fist across the man’s arm; he remained mindful of his tender wound, purposely aiming lower as to not cause any more damage. “Now’s not the time to joke, ya dipshit. This is serious stuff!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry for trying to lighten the mood a little . . .” Sung whined, rubbing his sore arm.

Strive rolled his eyes, quickly taking back the reins before they derailed again. “Nevermind. Let’s just focus on our current strategy. Our top priority is getting off this planet without running into anymore Void ships. Not only would a fight attract more of them to our position, but we’ve also got to remain mindful of their unique situation.” His voice lowered somberly. “They're stars after all. We’re trying to save them, not destroy them.”

The crew gave a few uneasy nods—guilt festered in the pitch black clearing. They were beginning to think back on their past actions, their kill count remaining undisclosed to their young companion. It was best not to think about the past. They knew they couldn’t alter what had already be done. 

“We’ll sneak through the perennial bridge,” continued Strive, “and see where it takes us. We might get lucky with the coordinates. This’ll be a huge gamble on our part, but I really think it’s worth it. If my hunch is correct, the payoff will be spectacular.” 

“How close is the next gateway?” asked Meouch.

“A little ways beyond our current position. We couldn’t land in a more perfect spot than this.”

“And ya know this because . . .” Meouch didn’t have to finish his sentence for everyone to understand what he was getting at. They all looked towards Strive expectantly, their tired eyes holding a mixture of apprehension and great admiration. Beneath their stares, Strive nodded solemnly. 

“Yes, I can still hear them whispering to me. It’s all they talk about. ‘The next gateway. Travel, seek. Claim the light. Claim the stars. Bring them back. Corrupt them all. End our suffering.’ ” Strive shuddered as he relayed their dreadful tones. “It would seem they’ve chosen this planet as their meeting point. A place where they can create more Void ships from the stars they’ve stolen. With each new batch that’s brought here, they’re tainted by the Void's influence. If any star dares to fight back, they’re destroyed on sight—it’s just like we saw before. The Void has no need for runaways.”

Meouch leaned back, a thoughtful hum escaping him. “And yer star is the only one who got away, eh? That’s one ferocious beast ya got in yer chest. A perfect match for yer fiery spirit, kid.”

Strive felt his core blossom beneath his cloak. He quickly shushed it. “You could say that.”

The feline flashed a smiled from the confines of his mask. “Well, now that we’ve decided on a plan, I say we hit the road right away. No use wastin’ anymore time than we already have.” Meouch stretched his arms high above his head, swishing his tail back and forth on the onyx shards with an impatient flick. 

“Not so fast. I want you to gather a few of these shards for the road.” said Sung. He pointed to Phobos as well. “Once we sort out our problems with the Bridge, we’ll take the time to examine these shards on our way back. There's no telling how long we’ll be drifting through the Wastelands, so we might as well make the most of our time and figure out their weaknesses.” 

Meouch let out an annoyed puff of air. He motioned for the rocketeer to follow him, pulling him into their trivial scavenger hunt. While it was certainly important to acquire their material, neither looked too pleased to delay their high-stakes flight in favour for rock hunting. The trio wandered a few steps away, bending down as they meticulously sifted through the sharp debris for the perfect specimen.

Strive watched them for a few moments before he was interrupted by his robotic companion. He looked up, a silent question dusting his thoughts. “Am I scared?” he repeated.

Havve nodded. “Yes. I want to know how you’re feeling about this whole journey. By this point, you must have come to terms with how close we are to a final confrontation with the Void. I want to make sure you’re doing well; I need to know if you’re prepared to face your own mortality.”

He felt himself pale slightly. Havve’s words were terribly ominous, perhaps more so than he originally intended. “Prepared to face my own death . . . that’s—I’m fighting no matter what comes my way! I’ll put my life on the line for the Brigade and our cause. I’m not scared to stare death in the face. I’d gladly give my life to bring back the stars!”

The robot nodded slowly. “Then I will fight with the same intensity as well. If not for our battle, then certainly protecting you and your valiant charge. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you shining, little Starlight.” 

Strive smiled softly. Havve seemed keen on using his mother’s fond nickname. He briefly wondered how long his mother’s companions had been keeping this title to themselves, no doubt thinking about it whenever they saw him. To hear the name once again warmed his chest—he felt safe beneath those cherished words. 

“I appreciate that, Havve. But don’t think for a second that I’m going to hide behind you guys while you do all the work. I’m going to fight just as hard, if not harder than everyone else! I won’t let anything stand in our way—not even that crooked Void!” He scoffed loudly, standing to full height and puffing his chest out in a defiant display. At the thought of joining his friends in battle, his core flickered in a vibrant waltz.

Havve set his jaw upwards, placing a grasper on his companion's head and ruffling his downy hair. “Such a determined spirit—you never cease to amaze me. If your mother were here, she’d be beaming with pride at the young man you’ve become.” The robot’s voice sounded wistful, a layer of sadness clouding his artificial tone. “Your courage is mesmerizing, just like hers. It’s scary how similar the two of you are. Being near you feels like I’m back in the past, but in a good way. Although we miss her terribly, your presence fills us with indescribable happiness.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” whispered Strive. “I’ll stay by your sides even after the final battle is done. You were my mother’s family, therefore you’re mine as well. Nothing will take that away from us.” He dragged his eyes across the clearing, watching as his remaining companions finished up their task. An unknown emotion danced across his starry eyes. “I’d devote my dying breath to my family. I won’t let anything take you away. I promise.”

Havve stared at his young companion, his internal drumming kicking up in surprise when he caught a glimpse of the fierce electricity within his gaze. It was unlike anything he had seen before—a brilliant flash of light, one comparable to a ferocious shooting star. It consumed his celestial eyes, coiling around his irises like flaming shackles as they framed his pupils; they shivered around the fine point, cradling the cosmic explosion at the centre. 

In the blink of an eye, the masterpiece was gone. The robot stuttered in confusion. Had he been mistaken? It made no sense to a rational creature like himself. How could he have imagined something so breathtaking in his companion’s eyes?

Oblivious to the robot’s questioning gaze, Strive’s ears perked upwards when something in the distance caught his attention. He froze in place and inhaled a shuddering breath. He quickly turned to his companions, eyes wide with panic as he listened to the approaching drawls of their enemy. 

“We need to go!" he yelled. "Get back to your ships and follow my lead. It looks like they’ve already figured out our location!”

The crew bristled in place. They quickly pocketed their samples and made a dash for their ships, running as fast as their legs could carry them across the sharp terrain. Strive jumped ahead of the others, tearing away his cloak and throwing it off his body with feverish impatience. Azure radiance washed across the clearing when he exposed himself to the hostile planet. He placed a trembling palm above his core and called forth the white hot currents of his star, channeling the creature through his fingers as he willed it to materialize in front of him. He grinned and prepared himself to jump across the wings, only to fall back in horror when an emerald slit peered over his vessel’s shoulders.

He dug his heels into the ground, falling onto his back as the ghastly creature loomed above him. He glared at the wicked beast, momentarily forgetting what lay imprisoned beneath its coarse exterior. He jumped to his feet when a viridian glow invaded the clearing, its sickly current trained on him with malicious intent. He could barely hear the tumultuous shouts of his companions—he was nearly deaf to the world around him as his adrenaline reached new levels of intensity.

Strive dug his feet into the ground and called forth his shield, bracing himself for the direct force of the scavenger’s beam. Sulfuric sweetness crashed across the terrain as its weapon shot towards him, engulfing the entire area in a venomous poison. Shrill screams filled the clearing as the Brigade watched their companion burn beneath the chartreuse flames, the intense light slithering into their distraught gazes.

They howled for their teammate, their voices raised to hysteric heights as horror gutted them to their knees. They saw the scavenger close its aperture and cease its attack, its prismatic eye narrowed in contempt while it waited for the smoke to clear, a hideous sizzle obscuring their companion’s charred corpse. It waited; the crew held their breaths and prepared themselves for the gruesome reveal. 

The billowing smoke subsided, but not on its own accord. A brilliant light erupted from the curtains of the assault, slashing through the veil with the strength of a valiant blade. The crew gasped in shock—they soon cheered and nearly blubbered at the sight before them.

Crouched behind his shield, Strive gave a few shaky gasps while he held the barrier above his head, a snide grin etched across his lips. A noticeable indent clawed beneath his stance when he was forced to fight against the power of the weapon. He quickly wobbled to his feet, his teeth bared and ears taut as he ran past the onyx beast. He glanced back at his awestruck companions, looking at them with wild eyes—he screamed in sudden annoyance.

“What are you waiting for?!” he yelled. His azure core lit up the beast in front of him, managing to snuff out the charge of its second attack. He glowered at his companions, a pleading tone hitched to his voice. “Do you think I’m just doing this for fun?! Don’t worry about me, just get to your ships! That’s an order!”

“Strive!” Sung rushed for his young companion, only to be restrained by powerful limbs, their metallic strength easily overwhelming the worried doctor. He wiggled fretfully, a slew of curses escaping him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! We have to help him!”

Havve shook his head quickly, already bound to Strive's demands. The robot motioned his reluctant companions towards their ships, pointing urgently, suggesting that they run past their enemy. He dragged the doctor by his arm and ushered his teammates forwards. Despite the crew's uproarious protests, he managed to push them away from the action—Havve couldn't help but look back. His scarlet eyes danced with feverish anxieties as he watched Strive stare down their enemy. Alone. 

The boy must have noticed his worried drumming immediately. He looked back and flashed the robot a confident smirk. He seemed to know what he was doing—Havve was inclined to believe him. Hopefully the rest would too.

Strive faced his enemy with a defiant snarl and crouched in preparation to avoid the next attack. The beast hovered above him with a malicious glint to its eye, a pool of liquid hatred boiling in its centre. Its viridian optics sparked with a new intensity as it prepared to unleash its attack. Unfortunately for the scavenger, Strive was well aware of its predictable patterns.

Keeping his shield close, Strive rolled across the shattered terrain, successfully avoiding the scavenger's attack. He grimaced as the claw-like shards cut across his skin without remorse, his clothing ripping, his skin tearing. He huffed in exhaustion and swiftly jumped to his feet, having no time to dally beneath the monster’s gaze. He cast his eyes towards his teammates' ships, thankful to see that they had already started up their engines. His core soared with delight; it was time to end his dance with the devil.

Strive retracted his shield and dove for his vessel without a moment to lose. He called for his star to accept him, practically flinging himself into the hull of his ship without so much as a soft landing. He tumbled into one of the control pillars, his vision spinning as a result of the clumsy impact. Shaking his head, he quickly found his footing and positioned himself between the controls—a familiar hum echoed through the vessel. He grinned when liquid adrenaline pumped through his veins, his vessel mirroring him with its own celestial excitement.

It was time to take off.

“Head for the skies!” he ordered through their communications. “There’s more coming for us. If we want to make it off this planet in one piece, then I suggest you get moving!” He could hear their engines whirr in a high-pitched symphony. One by one, the team ignited their engine and sent all their power into a single blast. Strive looked to the side of his viewing window, his ship reflecting in the scavenger’s vacant gaze. 

It was already preparing for another attack, but it was too late. They had already set their sights for the treacherous skies above.

Strive slammed his palms onto the controls and called forth a white hot firestorm. He cackled with elation as he bid the scavenger a gracious farewell. His entire team rocketed into the blank nothingness. Their ships streaked across the skies like a harkening beacon, one that called their shadowed enemies from the depths of the lifeless planet. 

The land rumbled. It creaked and moaned underneath the blinding light of the variegated band. Tittering whispers filled the air in ominous silence, reaching to those who had the unfortunate pleasure of enduring their voiceless calls. They wailed, they shrieked, they seethed with a hatred that was not their own, setting their viridian sights on the shimmering hope that soared across their blank domain. 

A contemptuous groan ruled over the land, calling for its celestial prisoners to give chase. Those who fought were quickly silenced. Those who begged for freedom were countered with sardonic cackles, a hissing clamp placed upon their tortured muzzles; Absolute silence—reluctant compliance. One voice rang above them all; one voice gave the inescapable command. Their time had come.

 _Locate the great Starlight Brigade._  


  
.  
  
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Strive sped through the darkness with the force of an unhinged comet, his crewmates following his stride like remnants of a starry explosion. They catapulted themselves forwards, neither daring to catch a glimpse of their approaching pursuers. The pressure began to build once the Brigade realised what was happening to them:

A call had been put forth, one that ordered for their immediate destruction.

Had it not been for Strive’s aggravated explanation, the rest of the team would have no idea how serious their situation was turning out to be. They weren’t facing a few lone ships—they were at the mercy of an entire army. 

The Brigade stayed close to Strive’s vessel, following him without question. Due to their lack of understanding with the Void, every decision was left in the hands of their young companion, each movement and twitch of his vessel’s wings closely monitored and imitated to perfection. The team looked to Strive as their guiding light, a steadfast force that would break through the darkness and bring them to safety. They looked to him as a symbol of hope—their star among the chaos.

“How’s everyone holding up?” Strive asked across the monitor. He observed his companion’s faces, feeling all of their anxieties crash into him like a worried hurricane. All their smiles were forced, their postures dreadfully stiff. He could see straight through their brave façades. The thought of an entire Void army weighed on their minds and shook their resolve. They were absolutely terrified.

 _“As good as one can be in such a situation,”_ clicked Phobos. His gloves were wrapped tightly around his controls. His grip trembled slightly. _“I’m picking up an increase in the Void ship’s numbers. We’re well over our usual encounter rate. I’m sensing fleets of up to thirty ships; their numbers double with each new addition.”_

Strive grimaced when a hollow laughter drifted through the air, its sound reserved just for him. He shivered, horrified by the master Void's intimidating presence. 

“It’s best not to focus on what the sensors are telling you. Trust me, you won’t want to look after a while,” he hissed between gritted teeth. “The call has been made. We’ve been labeled as the target for the entire Void army.”

Phobos shuddered in his seat. _“That can’t . . .”_ His shoulders sagged. He shook his head miserably. _“Quite the predicament we’ve landed ourselves in, huh?”_

“Try not to think about it,” said Sung. “So long as we make it to the Bridge, we’ll be fine. I think.” The doctor gave a strained chuckle, alluding to the possibility of being banished to an uncharted position decades away from their destination. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off his companions’ unamused glares. “How much longer, Strive?”

“Not too much further. It should be straight ahead of us.” The boy peered out his vessel’s window, trying to distinguish any noticeable shapes across the terrain. So far, it all looked the same shade of pitiful black, each new curve in the land mulling together into one hideous blob. He swallowed back his apprehension, keeping his sights set on the promise of escape. However, another issue was slowly making itself known. “The portal," he breathed. "It doesn’t feel as stable as before.”

 _“What do you mean?”_ asked Phobos.

“The gateway seems to be faltering, almost like it’s on the brink of fading away. It’s definitely still there, but I don’t know for how long.” Strive growled as the silent cackles continued. “They’re laughing at us. They know we're trying to get to the Bridge!”

“Those bastards!" Sung snarled across the intercom. "They’re trying to take away our only chance of escape!” The doctor turned his attention to the gaining fleet behind them, his composure slowly succumbing to his rage. “We need to speed up. If they manage to trap us here, we’re as good as dead.”

The crew nodded in unison. Each member revved their engines and summoned a burst of strength, sending their ships forward in a blast of light. Strive mirrored their actions, forcefully swooping his arms across his control pillars and willing his vessel to advance like a shooting star. His counterpart accepted the demands, a shrill wail resonating from the engine as it jumped through the sky on star-clade wings. 

Worried rumbles vibrated across the intercom. “Shit! They’re still gainin’ on us!’ hissed Meouch.

Strive broke his position so he could glance at their hunters, gasping in horror at the terrible sight behind them. Hundreds of viridian wounds punctured the skies, their venomous glow an insult to the stars who used to glimmer in their place. The light seeped from the gashes, coating the skies in a wash of thick emerald blood. A few of the dots flashed, hurling a beam of viscous energy through the air. The crew quickly veered out of the way, managing to dodge a few more shots from their incoming assault. 

“I say we take ‘em!” Meouch roared. His fangs were barred in a display of fearful frustration. His whiskers trembled as he spoke, his voice raised in order to mask his terror. “We can pick a few of ‘em off without any trouble!”

“No!” cried Strive. His crewmates turned to him in surprise. “We’re not attacking them. We can’t. There’s too many for us to handle. We’d be overwhelmed in seconds—it’d be foolish to launch ourselves into their attack!” He forced himself to keep his eyes trained on their destination. “We’re not ready yet. We need to get out of here first, then we can think about going up against the Void.” 

From the corner of his eye, he could see the upwards curl of a grin on Sung’s face—he had taken the man’s advice to his core. Banishing his rashness, he had to think clearly, much like a leader would. It was his job to get his crew to safety. He refused to let any of them die at the hands of that abyssal demon, especially when they were under his care 

After hearing Strive's command, Meouch stepped down, though his hackles were still raised with displeasure. “Fine. What're we supposed to do in the meantime? If it’ll get us out of here with our skins still intact, I’m all ears.”

“Stay together,” ordered Strive, “and don’t get hit. Think you can do that for a few more minutes?”

“Bah, of course! This isn’t my first time runnin’ from a galactic chase, kid. Ya pick up a few tricks with enough experience.”

 _“Oh, what’s this? A mention of your criminal past, Meouch?”_ Phobos raised his voice with a teasing trill. The rocketeer seemed much more at ease now that he had the chance to pester his companion. _“With all those unfulfilled bounties I discovered, I would hope your claims are true. You wouldn’t want your streak to be broken, now would you?”_

Meouch grinned at the challenge. “Taunt all ya want, Phobos. There’s a reason no one could ever catch me; bastards are probably still lookin’ for me like the idiots they are!" Meouch sniffed proudly, sending a fearless wink across the monitor. “Don’t worry about me, kid. Those things won’t even manage to chip the paint off my ship. C’mon, let's get to that gateway!”

Strive smirked at his companions' renewed confidence, and called for them to follow his lead.

A bellowing cry escaped the brigadiers as they charged through the chaos, swerving and swooping their vessels in order to avoid the onslaught of the Void. Countless emerald blasts crackled through the air in an attempt to hit their moving targets, failing each and every time as the team danced around their attacks with ease. However as time dragged on, the number of attacks began to grow at an alarming rate. While the Brigade said nothing about the sudden increase, Strive could tell it was beginning to wear them down. 

The entire planet was doused in viridian flames by the time Strive found the long awaited gateway.

“There it is!” he shrieked. His eyes widened when he beheld the wavering passage, its dark edges seeming to bend and give beneath an invisible pressure. The tunnel was positioned between the rubble of thousands of deceased Void ships, their jagged edges sticking upwards like the maw of a disgusting creature. The onyx blades reflected the disease of the skies, carving a clear path towards their freedom. “It’s now or never! The Bridge is about to collapse on itself!”

One by one, his crewmates aligned themselves into a high-speed line and charged towards the ominous tunnel. Strive felt a joyful cry escape him as he neared the entrance; they had done it. They were about to escape! He looked back, only for his blood to crackle with a frigid potency.

He watched in horror as the original Void loomed above its disciples, a blinding window of light peering from its sinister socket. The beast howled in triumph as it let loose a devastating beam, one that was trained directly on the line of pilots. Strive cried out when he was thrown into the unstable gateway, all sense of reality lost as he fought to regain his breath. His core drenched the hull of his ship in a crippling panic—he desperately called out to his companions, hoping that they would answer from beyond the grey.

“Sung! Havve! Phobos! Meouch! Can anyone hear me?!”

The monitor remained blank, his pleas falling upon deaf ears. He tried again, his anxieties clawing their way up his throat in the form of a pitiful snarl. What had the Void done? Had they all gotten into the Bridge on time? Where was his team? Where was his family?

These were the last thoughts to swim through his mind before a chartreuse explosion rippled through the murky gateway. Strive stiffed a pained gasp as he was thrown across the hull of his vessel, forced to tumble through the compromised Bridge. He watched his dim world become even darker, his vision heavy and unfocused as he welcomed the realm of the unconscious with a biting reluctance.  


  
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.  
  
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Strive awoke in a dizzying haze, his reasoning weak and unrefined, his bearings a complete and utter mess. 

He slowly opened his eyes and immediately noticed the sideways orientation of his vessel. He blinked, feeling unsettled by the weightlessness of his ship. He dragged his eyes across the gloomy hull, his sluggish mind working to form a cohesive impression of his situation. Perhaps he was dead—he must be. After what he'd been through, surely he had been banished to the land of the undead.

Azure light splattered the vessel when Strive shot upwards. He pushed himself to his feet, nearly toppling over from the sudden action. He steadied himself with a few staggered steps, eventually finding the strength to fling himself towards his controls. He gasped for breath as panic sliced through his core; his palms trembled when he summoned the transparent screen.

“Is anyone there? Meouch, Phobos!” His chest felt heavy when his calls were left to chime across the empty screen. “Sung! Havve! Guys, are you there?! It’s Strive! Please, answer me!” He quickened his communications, firing off all sorts of signals and distress calls. A wave of nausea washed over him when the window remained eerily quiet. Nothing was on the other lines.

Strive slammed his palms down in defeat; his vessel jostled in the air out of fright. A vicious cry ripped through his chest. A terrible weight crush his core into submission. He cursed the cosmos as a whole. In a fit of rage, he tore through the empty Wastelands without any proper thoughts—his mind was overtaken by a caterwauling grief. 

He tried again and again, hoping for different results each time. He’d call for his friends, only to receive nothing in return. None of their familiar figures flashed on his screen, nor their unique voices and intriguing personalities. All that was left was Strive's reflection in his window, his shoulders slumped and his features overwhelmed by despair. 

In a last ditch effort to reclaim his missing companions, he looked towards his map, desperation prickling behind his watery eyes. They had to be out there—somewhere, anywhere!

“Stars,” he whispered to himself. His bottom lip quivered while he awaited the map’s answer. “Please. Please be there . . .”

He held his breath when the results crackled onto his screen. He dragged his misty eyes over each section of the map, his core’s light becoming more frantic with each negative result. He began to shake. His breathing stopped when he looked over the last section of the map. He blinked once, seeing nothing on the ghostly map. A mournful growl tore through his throat.

Then, a single light flashed on the screen.

Inhaling sharply, Strive set his course for the pale blue dot on his soligram. He curled his arms with as much force as he could muster, flinging himself through the empty Wastelands with a new found resolve. His vessel rocketed across the debris fields at breathtaking speeds, its engine light leaving a brilliant trail in its wake. Strive quickened his pace as he neared his destination, his core seizing in both excitement and dreadful fear. He had no idea what to expect when he found his marooned companion. 

In the distance, a familiar ship slowly floated into view. Strive let out a joyous howl once he recognized the sloped edges of the russet vessel, its external appearance remaining free of any damage. 

“Phobos!”

Strive frantically set up a link between himself and his silent companion. He stood expectantly before the screen, his vitals squeezing painfully while he awaited the rocketeer’s response. It was taking longer than usual—there shouldn’t have been this much of a delay. Strive gnawed his bottom lip nervously as he stood in a suffocating silence, one that was unbefitting for the animated crew member.

After what felt like an eternity, Phobos finally confirmed their connection.

He seemed dazed, his movements sluggish and fuzzy while he held his battered helmet between his gloves. He looked around slowly, seeming lost as to what he was supposed to think of his situation. _“Strive?”_ he asked; even his digitized words were disorganized. _“Jeez, what happened back there? I remember charging for the gateway and a huge explosion of green, and then . . . I’m here.”_

Strive exhaled with relief. “Thanks the Stars you’re alright. I thought the worst! The others—have you come into contact with them?”

The rocketeer shook his head. _“No, I haven’t. I was just regaining consciousness when you signaled my ship. If we’re in close proximity to each other then surely the others must be nearby.”_

Feathered hope blossomed within Strive’s chest—there was a chance that they were all okay! “Do you think you can start up a search command?" he asked. "You and I will have a better chance of finding everyone if we work together.”

Phobos agreed without a second thought. He and Strive flew side-by-side through the debris fields, fretfully searching the floating particles for a sign of their missing companions. While they were searching, the two pilots tried to gather a better understanding of what happened during their escape.

_“There was definitely interference from the leading Void ship. It must have fired at the gateway the exact moment we entered,”_ hummed Phobos, a thoughtful drawl attached to his tone. _“If that were the case, then we escaped with exceptional amounts of luck on our side.”_

“Why’s that?” asked Strive. “We were knocked unconscious and thrown into some unknown part of the galaxy! I don’t even know where we are. The mapping software is showing me all types of error messages.”

 _“Yeah, I’ve noticed. We definitely need to upgrade our tech when we get back to Headquarters.”_ The rocketeer seemed peeved by the amount of times their trusted technology failed during their mission. _“Besides that one downside, we should be thankful. That explosion must have had enough power to compromise the gateway. There’s no chance of them following us now.”_

Strive’s ears perked at the unexpected news. He was right. Without a direct link to their position, the Void had no way of knowing where they were hiding. He felt a sly smirk move across his lips. In an effort to destroy them, the Void has managed to give them an escape route, one that couldn’t be traced! He waved his arms through the air in excitement; his vessel seemed to shimmer with celestial laughter. 

Despite the reassurance, they were still missing over half their crew. Strive felt his excitement die down when an uncomfortable weight nestled in his core. There was no time to celebrate—not until the rest of his friends had been found alive and well.

The dishevelled duo drifted through the vast fields of the cosmos, their eyes trained intently on their tethered technologies. Strive quickly turned his attention to his companion's delighted beeps across the monitor. He gasped when he realized what his teammate was laughing about.

Approaching their vessels were two shimmering dots, their speeds matched and unified as they closed in on the duo’s current position. Strive and Phobos propelled themselves towards their companions, hollering with joy when they beheld the distinct forms of Havve and Meouch’s ships. Within a few moments, their shaky duo soon became a sonorous quartet.

“Am I ever glad to see the two of ya!” yowled Meouch on the monitor. The feline looked frazzled, but unharmed nonetheless. He jabbed a pointed claw towards the screen, placing Havve in the middle of all the attention. “Do any of ya realize how difficult it is to navigate in a pair with this pile of bolts? The guy’s a freakin’ mute! I can hardly understand a single thing this rust bucket wants me to do. Without the doctor’s help, none of us can understand him—what a disaster that could've been!”

Strive turned to Havve, noticing how his scarlet gaze softened the moment he laid eyes on him. 

“You’re both okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re fine,” the robot assured. “Though I momentarily went offline during the explosion. When I rebooted my systems, I was stranded in the Wastelands. I just happened upon Meouch a few miles from my original position. He says the same thing happened to him—the last thing he remembers is being knocked into the gateway by the Void’s aftershocks, something I assume happened to the two of you as well.”

Strive nodded. “Yeah, the explosion really did a number on us. It messed with our navigation systems again. Phobos isn’t too happy right now.” At the mention of their unfortunate malfunctions, Phobos shook his head in frustration. Although his face was obscured, one could easily see how fed up he was. “But that’s not all—we think that the gateway was corrupted by the Void’s blast. Since it’s been destroyed, they shouldn’t be able to trace us back to our current position.”

Havve’s eyes lit up. “Interesting. But I wonder if your theory holds some inaccuracies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the Void created those gateways—most likely from harvesting the essence the stars it destroys—so wouldn’t it be able to recreate the same portal? Surely it knows where it’s bringing its scavengers when the gateways are established. You saw how all the warps seemed to lead to their meeting grounds.” 

Strive hummed nervously. He relayed the robot’s thoughts back to the rocketeer, earning the same concerned buzz that plagued his throat.

_“That’s certainly possible,”_ mumbled Phobos. _“But it must take quite a lot of power to make those shortcuts in the first place. Even if it knew where we landed, that doesn’t mean it can get to us right away. There’s still a chance we can move on before they establish another Bridge.”_

The quartet nodded, though their actions betrayed them as a nervous cloud weighed on their minds. Strive shook his head, his worries beginning to fester. “We can’t leave this area yet. We have to find Sung.” 

“We’ve been lookin’ for quite some time,” said Meouch. “The only lifeforms we’ve been able to pick up on were the two of ya. We haven’t seen any sign of him yet.” The feline must have noticed the way Strive’s ears drooped in disappointment. He chuckled softly, his words dusted with kindness. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll find him.” 

Strive's mind suddenly stirred when a horrible thought crashed into him. “What was his position when you all entered the Bridge?”

The crew paused, their postures faltering when they thought about their disastrous jump through the portal. Strive had led the way. Havve was right on his tail when they first entered, followed by Meouch, then Phobos. The last to go was—

Strive’s eyes widened. “No . . . Sung was—?” A horrible dread weaved its way through his core. He couldn’t bring himself to breathe as he looked to the floor of his vessel, his eyes blurred behind a layer of disbelief. “How close the explosion was he? Did he get hit before he had a chance to enter the gateway?”

For a while, the crew remained silent.

_“Strive, don’t panic,”_ chimed Phobos, trying to soothe his fretful companion. _“We don’t know for certain. We can’t think like that right now. If anyone could survive an attack like that, it would be Sung. He’s got a knack for escaping high risk situations.”_ Although the rocketeer kept his voice light and cheery, it was obviously forced. Strive could see how his figure shuddered when he tried to sugar coat their leader’s unknown status. 

__No one knew what became of him. Judging by the team’s somber reaction, they must have assumed the worst straight away._ _

__In a bout of desperation, Strive signaled for their leader to establish a connection. “Sung, come in! It’s Strive. Please, come in!” The line crackled with lifeless static. He growled wretchedly and tried again. “Sung! You need to answer! The rest of the Brigade is here—we’re safe! Please, respond!”_ _

__Phobos and Meouch couldn’t bear to watch the agonizing scene in front of them. They turned away from their monitors, shoulders hunched in defeat as they wallowed in a broken silence. The only one who remained attentive to the boy’s hollowed calls was the somber robot. He watched his young companion scream into the nothingness—his internal drumming consumed him in a torturous symphony._ _

__“Strive—”_ _

__“No! He’s out there! We just have to look harder!” Strive bit back a sob and kept forcing a connection through the Wastelands, each new attempt yielding nothing in return. “Sung, respond! It’s Strive—we’re safe! We’re okay! Where are you? Please answer me! Please . . .” He pursed his lips as a trail of tears crawled down his flushed cheeks. He willed his voice to remain steady._ _

__It cracked. It rippled from his chest like a shattered call, its sorrowful cadence filling his vessel with a mournful echo. Strive curled his palms across his control pillars and dug his nails into the slates. He snivelled, collecting himself with staggered, wet gasps. His shoulders shook, his feathered ears shivered in despair._ _

__Strive looked up at the screen one last time, his tired gaze colliding with his reflection. Sung’s viewing window was empty—Strive was left to fill its place. He shook his head, refusing the impossible thought. The Brigade only had one leader; no one else could fill a title that was rightfully his._ _

__“Sung, it’s Strive. Please, respond . . .” His voice began to descend into a hollow whisper. He sniffed, watching his reflection with repulsion. He didn’t belong there. “We _need_ you. Please, Sung . . . you can’t leave us now. Come back.”_ _

__He let his final words fall upon deaf ears, perhaps even the ears of the dead. Strive lowered his head in a somber display of silent grief. He said nothing, simply letting his devastation rock him into a quiet state of woe. His vessel felt empty without their leader on screen. His core felt heavy; melancholic daggers pierced his soul, twisting and turning as they gutted him of all that he held dear. Had he not been piloting his vessel, his would have fallen to his knees, burying his face into whatever covering he could find._ _

__He felt broken. He felt lost, stranded between the black and grey of inescapable sorrows. His core became muddled as he gave in to crippling bereavement; his vessel became shrouded in the shadows of his grief. Nothing could lighten the pain in his chest, though the sudden blip across his monitor was certainly a welcomed intrusion._ _

__“Alright, so what’s all the fuss about, hmm?”_ _

__Strive gasped. His core fluttered to life in response to the familiar bounce of the man’s voice. The boy whipped his head to the screen, a grand smile making its way across his sullen expression. “Sung!”_ _

__“The one and only!” Sung flicked a quick salute to his teammates. Everyone’s mood improved once that beheld their leader, his flesh and blood still intact even after everything he had been through. “What’d I miss?”_ _

__“Jackass, we thought ya were dead!” Meouch yowled across the screen. His muzzle was pushed back and his fangs bared, but there was a noticeable curve to his rage while he lashed their leader with his wickedly sharp tongue. “What gives ya the right to pop up outta nowhere after all the grief ya caused us?! Ya insufferable, thick-headed, pompous little—”_ _

__“Watch it, Meouch,” the doctor warned. “Remember, we have a minor in our presence. There’s no need for such words.”_ _

__“Then let me have a go!” interrupted Strive. Everyone froze when he spat his own dose of poison towards the man. “You absolute bastard! It felt like I was going to Fade when I thought you were killed by the Void! For you to march onto the screen like nothing happened is ridiculous! Stars alive, I could knock that stupid grin right off your face if given the chance!”_ _

__The crew stared in shocked silence, their young companion letting loose a flurry of curses, snaps, and biting disapproval. They watched Sung scrunch beneath the boy’s chastising blows, his shoulders tense as he was forced to endure Strive's irate rant. Everyone was utterly shocked, except for a single, artificial being across the line. Havve watched the interaction with a velvety fondness, his circuits firing with the pleasant sting of nostalgia. He watched Strive with a soft crimson sheen in his eyes, the image of his mother perfectly mirroring each action he performed._ _

__If Havve could laugh, he most certainly would. For now, he would have to make do with the chattering of his upwards jaw, a flurry of joyous sparks jumping through his circuits as he relished in the humorous situation._ _

__“I thought I’d surprise you guys!" sputtered Sung. "I didn’t think you'd be this upset.”_ _

__“ _Stars alive, Sung_! How could you possibly think that a stunt like that was even remotely okay?! We just barely managed to escape with our lives from an entire Void army—how was reuniting with the crew not one of your top properties?!” _ _

__“Well, I—” the doctor stammered, “I’m sorry! But something really important distracted me, and I had to—”_ _

__“What could have possibly distracted you from something as important as this?!” Strive seethed in his spot. His vessel responded to his fury, its wings practically vibrating as it shook with unified rage. “Stars, I’m so mad! You're unbelievable! You’re lucky that I’m so happy to see you, otherwise I’d cast you to the furthest corner of the damn Wastelands!”_ _

__“Okay, first of all—” Sung’s visored glare shot daggers at their cat-like companion, “Meouch and I need to have a little chat about the words he’s been using around you. Secondly, I’m glad to see you, too.” The doctor smiled, looking over his teammates with sentimental affection. His voice wavered from his sincerity. “I’m so relieved that you’re all okay.”_ _

__At these simple words, Strive felt himself calm down. His anger melted away, gradually sloshing its hot weight off his shoulders. He'd have time to chew out his ridiculous companion later. For now, he was thankful that they were all together. He was grateful to be back in the company of his mismatched family._ _

__“Where were you?” asked Strive. “I seriously thought that the Void had taken you.”_ _

__“Trust me," said Sung, "I was so sure that I was going to die back there. When I saw the beam coming towards us, I moved my ship in front of the blast in hopes of saving you guys from the attack.” The crew’s eyes went wide. They hadn’t known about this crucial detail. “Anyways, my ship got hit hard. The engines were completely destroyed by the explosion. When I was tossed into the Bridge, I thought I was going to be banished millions of lightyears away—I blacked out soon after. Luckily, it seems that you and I are within a few miles' reach! I can track you guys down and bring you back home.”_ _

__“Home?” inquired Meouch. “What do ya mean by that? If yer engines are busted, we should be the ones locating yer sorry ass!_ _

The doctor gave a sly smirk. He tutted, waggling a haughty finger in front of his companion’s image. “See, there’s a third part to this story, one you’ll find worthy of calling a distraction. Your navigators, are they working?” 

__The team gave their collective answers. No, their systems were fried once again. They could locate their tethered companions, so long as they were only a few miles away. The rest of the Wastelands was unknown to them, their leading map system having crashed after they emerged from the Bridge. After a bit of tinkering, they’d be able to regain their systems, but for now they were blind to their surroundings. They had no idea how far out they truly were._ _

__Sung let out a cheerful guffaw. He smirked, failing to contain his knowing grin. “Alright, sit tight. We’ll come get you.”_ _

__“ 'We?' What the devil are ya talkin’ about? That jump must have seriously scrambled that cone head of yers.”_ _

__“Quite the contrary; I’ve never been better! I think you’ll feel the same way in a few moments.” Sung motioned something off screen, his voice barely legible as he spoke to someone out of their view. The crew eyed the man in bewilderment, wondering who the doctor had managed to run into. Now that they thought about it, his surroundings were different from his usual environment, signaling that he was no longer piloting his own vessel. He didn’t seem worried, so it couldn’t have been a kidnapping situation. Frankly, he seemed quite pleased. Comfortable, too._ _

__It was difficult to see through the turquoise hue of the monitor, but Strive could pick up subtle hints of orange light radiating from the foreign monitor. It wasn’t a hostile shade, though it certainly held an intimidating aura, one that curled invisible hands around the onlooker’s throat. It was the strangest reaction he had ever felt. He knew this light meant no harm to his team, and yet he couldn’t shake the discomfort in his core. Whoever had rescued Sung was someone that Strive didn’t want to tangle with anytime soon. He felt trapped underneath the titian radiance, frozen in place by a pair of invisible eyes; unblinking and incredibly intense._ _

__Strive observed his map quizzically when the unknown presence blipped on his monitor. His vessel didn’t recognize the signal. He held no familiarity with the dot, therefore his vessel didn’t either. He watched the ship gradually close the distance between itself and the group. He looked up through his viewing window, squinting when the unknown vessel crashed through the abyss. His body tensed in response, only to relax when he heard the ecstatic cheers of his crewmates._ _

__“Ya’ve got to be kiddin’ me!” cackled Meouch. “Of all the places we could've jumped to, ya managed to run into him? Talk about perfect timin’. Doc, yer one lucky bastard!”_ _

__Strive squinted, trying to catch sight of the fabled ship. As it came into view, he was taken aback by its unique exterior, its intimidating shell perfectly matching the intense aura it gave off. Fire spat from the engines like molten rain, propelling the strange creature on jet black wings. The vessel approached the group with an open maw, its yellow jaw seeming to snap and tear at the weightless air. The beast moved through the skies with the grace of a demon, its scaled body creaking, moaning, and growling with each new movement it produced. Orange flames lit up the centre of the terrifying creature, its artificial glare seeming to follow Strive wherever he looked._ _

__Despite the elation of his crew, Strive couldn’t help but shudder in the presence of this mysterious entity._ _

__“Who is that?” whispered Strive, his wide eyes calling out to his robotic companion._ _

__Havve seemed unaffected by the daunting force. In fact, he seemed quite pleased. “Together at last,” he mused. “Who would’ve thought we’d meet again under such bizarre circumstances?”_ _

__Strive glanced out his window, watching the unknown being’s engines sputter and stop. He was disturbed, feeling as if the beastly vessel were breathing down his neck. “Is he an ally?” The word ‘ally’ seemed clunky on his tongue—this new being certainly seemed to fit all the classic criteria for an enemy._ _

__“Of course. One we’re thankful to have by our sides. If he’s with Sung, then that must mean his solo mission was a success.” Havve eyed his young companion, a flurry of humored sparks lighting up his circuits when he beheld the boy’s baffled gaze. “Right, the two of you haven’t been acquainted yet. The only exposure you’ve had is moving into his vacant room.”_ _

__Strive gasped once he realized who the robot was implying. “That’s Brian?”_ _

__“Yes. He’s the official-unofficial sixth member of the Brigade. While he’s away most of the time, he’s always willing to come back if it means fighting an important battle. True to his keen intuition, it would seem he’s come back just when we need him.” Havve tilted his head when a new entity flashed onto the navigator's screen—its monumental form nearly took up the entire window. The robot placed his jaw upwards in a jagged smirk. “Looks like your gamble paid off, Strive. Your stars have aligned in our ultimate favour.”_ _

__The boy looked towards the skies, his core dancing a fevered waltz when he noticed the staggering presence behind the beast-like vessel. He nearly stumbled backwards at the sight, its gigantic form just as impressive as the first time encountered it. Headquarters claimed the empty space, existing through the darkness and banishing the mundanity of the Wastelands. Guiding lights beckoned for the group to advance, pulling them forward like some type of gravitational pull—it was impossible to resist its potent charm._ _

__“We’re home.” Sung said softly. He chuckled quietly, eventually breaking out into a contagious bout of laughter. Everyone else joined in, overcome by feelings of pure elation as they rocketed towards their safe haven. Strive sped ahead of the rest and shot through the sky like a vibrant missile, tumbling through the warmth of their treasured domain, relishing in the way Headquarters welcomed them back with a caring embrace. He hollered without restraint, letting his laugher wash over him as he soared through the twists and turns of their hideaway._ _

__They had done it—Stars alive, they had actually made it back!_ _

  
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__

__Although rest and recovery was on each of the Brigadiers’ minds, now was not the time to falter. They each had an important task to perform, one that couldn’t afford any unnecessary delays. The moment their vessels landed on the loading docks, the team crashed through the endless hallways of the immense structure, charging for their separate quarters in order to focus on what had to be done. Meouch and Phobos made a dash for their research labs. If they wanted to hold their own against the approaching Void army, they’d need to focus on creating the best defense and offense the cosmos had ever seen. With their shards in hand, the duo promised to find a solution as fast as possible._ _

__This left Strive in the hands of the immortal pair, their new addition seeming to have disappeared in the blink of an eye. Although Sung had assured him that Brian meant no harm, Strive couldn’t swallow his apprehension. Something about him was . . . unhinged? Erratic, unsettling, perhaps even deranged? He was a curious being to behold, one who was clade in a bizarre black suit, his only defining features being his wide, unblinking glare that burned through his mask. Strive had felt as if his every movement were being surveyed with cautious eyes, even when the stealthy being was absent from the room—or so he thought. Apparently, Brian could be anywhere at anytime, lurking in your peripherals when you least expected it. This sent dubious shivers clawing down Strive's spine.__

____

____

__Whatever his diagnosis may be, the boy couldn’t occupy himself with such strange thoughts. He had to focus on staying in position with his crew. Unfortunately, his small stature still struggled to keep up with his companions—luckily he had Havve to rely on, the robot having taken it upon himself to carry him the rest of the way._ _

__Strive held onto the robot’s shoulder as they jostled through countless arcs and doorways, each new slope prompting Havve to duck so he wouldn’t injure his passenger. The boy weaved in time with the artificial being’s movements, determined to keep his balance throughout their synchronized dance. Each passing second sent Strive’s core into a brilliant display, his azure shine flooding the hallways like a beacon. Passersby quickly jumped out of the way when they beheld the strange group, using the startling light as a warning to step aside._ _

__“If Havve’s theory is correct, then we’re going to be in a world of trouble without a proper strategy," huffed Sung. He kept his gait strong, refusing to falter as he shot through the corridors with the same strength of his vessel’s ignition. Havve was perfectly capable of keeping pace, though Strive felt himself redden in embarrassment at the thought of himself floundering behind them. It was times like this where he was incredibly thankful that the robot housed some fondness for him._ _

__Strive grimaced when he replayed the robot’s grim statement in his mind. “If the Void can control where they deploy their gateways, then they must have known about Headquarters’ location. They must have been preparing an ambush this entire time!” He grumbled nervously, biting his lower lip as he remembered the hostile entity and the sheer amount of power it exuded. “It’s probably working on repairing the compromised portal as we speak. There’s no telling how long we have before a direct route is established.”_ _

__“If I were to make an educated guess, I’d say we have less than a week to get ourselves in order.”_ _

__“A week?!”_ _

__“Maybe less,” Sung sighed. “The Void is powerful, but even I think there are limitations to its endless might. Establishing a perennial bridge must have taken a toll on its strength—it probably needs to recharge before it can make another passage. My guess is that it functions as a stagnant unit, one who directs its troupes and creates shortcuts on the safety of its own planet. It doesn’t seem like the type of entity to put itself out in the open without a reason. Now that we’ve figured out its plan, I have a feeling that it’ll take an aggressive approach from here on out.”_ _

__“That’s just great . . .” Strive looked down at his core, watching its azure flames jump from their resting place. They lapped at the air, almost as if it were lashing out at an unseen force. His star was agitated and restless, yet it also shivered with fear. “How are we going to prepare a counterattack in such a short amount of time?”_ _

__“With a proper strategy, that’s how! We’ve faced off against multiple scavengers before, so we know how to hold our own against a few of them. An entire army—the master Void? Eh, that’s a different story. If we want to survive the assault, we’re going to need a new strategy, one that’ll secure our victory. For our plan to work, we need something special. That’s why we need you, Strive.”_ _

__The boy reeled back in surprise. “Me? But what do I have to offer?”_ _

__“You’ve heard their thoughts, you know how they think and function. For a short time, you even became one of them.” Sung’s voice lowered at the terrible memory. He shook his head and rid himself of the dreary image. “I believe you hold the key to our success. Usually the Brigade relies on me for our final plan of action. This time, I want you to help me—I want you to lead us into battle. Think you’re up for the challenge, kid?”_ _

__Strive was speechless for a few moments. Him, the leader of the Brigade? His gut reaction was the reject the idea entirely. He wasn’t fit for the role. Sung was. He was their fearless captain; he brought them back from the brink more times than he could count. He was confident, knowledgeable, and intuitive beyond belief. How could Strive ever dream of living up to his greatness?_ _

__And yet, the forbidden words danced across his tongue most sweetly. His core quivered with excitement at the idea of leading the charge. Positioned at the centre, this would be his chance to avenge all those who had fallen beneath the Void’s despicable grasp. The shadowy cosmos, the tortured stars, his mother’s selfless sacrifice—he could fight for them all. He could do it. He could be the starlight that lights the way, leading them towards to their long awaited salvation._ _

__They ran in complete silence, a feeling of unease beginning to wiggle its way into the doctor’s chest. Suddenly, Strive bubbled over with a brilliant laughter, his radiance overtaking the entire corridor. “Let’s do it! We’re going to knock that abomination back into the shadows once and for all!” Strive curled his palm into a tight first, patting it firmly to his core. “No more running; it’s time to fight for the cosmos!_ _

__“Let’s show them the true power of the Starlight Brigade!”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope you're all doing well and enjoying yourselves. As always, thanks for stopping by!
> 
> As of recently, I've finally decided on the amount of chapters this story will have. I've drafted a loose plan and guideline for how I should wrap up this project. We are currently on chapter 24—this tale will have 27 in total! Unfortunately, that means we are almost at the end of this cosmic journey. I'm sad to think about bringing this to a close, but excited all the same! I can't wait to bring you all along for the dramatic ride. I hope to live up to your expectations and uphold your reading standards! 
> 
> See you all soon! :^)


	25. Breakthrough and Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle looms beyond the horizons, threatening to shake the Brigade to its very core. In the face of war, the team must remain strong, keeping their courage close and their bravery lit within their souls. No longer a distant thought, the pressures of combat arrive quicker than excepted.
> 
> Remaining vigilant is key. One wrong move is all it takes to cause irreversible damages, wounds that even the bond of friendship cannot mend on its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Heads up! Another long chapter! :^)**

Headquarters filled itself to the brim with a persistent chatter, the uneasy grumbles weaving their way through the immense structure like a fevered sickness, one that plagued every one of its inhabitants. Tempers grew and patience crumbled; anxieties rose to frantic heights. The days slowly came to a close, adding more stress to an already stressful situation. 

The entire ship was on a strict lockdown while hundreds of crew members worked tirelessly in preparation for the Void attack.

Having been on red alert for four straight days, Strive stumbled through the hallways with a slight delirium, the constant background chatter beginning to whittle away at his increasingly frayed nerves. He kept his exhausted gaze forwards, willing himself to ignore the dull ache behind his vision as he pushed through the frantic crowds. Running through the corridors was no longer a daunting task for him since he had been navigating the same route for the past few days, though admittedly, he was beginning to grow tired of the repetition. 

He found the familiar doorway with ease, pushing through the barrier once he was granted access to the restricted facilities. Cold air flooded his senses, the frigid streams managing to calm some of his lingered annoyance. Strive heaved a weary sigh, watching his heated breath billow through the air in an uneasy cloud. He shivered when he approached the hunched figure by the desk, listening to the low rumbles that rolled from the lumbering beast. He cleared his throat, earning a startled grunt from the distracted feline.

“Ah, I was wonderin’ who came in.” Meouch quickly motioned for the boy to sit beside him. Reluctantly, Strive took a frosty seat. “I’m thinkin’ we’ll have the compound by the end of the evenin’. Damn thing is bein’ unbelievably stubborn! Ya wouldn't believe how tough it is to synthesize an energy source that doesn’t damage the insides.” The feline blinked slowly, each movement seeming like it would claim his consciousness at any moment. Meouch groaned and rubbed his blurry eyes, the action nearly knocking off the strange device on his face. 

Strive tilted his head quizzically at the new technology. “What’s with the eyepatch?”

Meouch scoffed in groggy amusement. “Not quite an eyepatch—it’s a scanner. I keep forgettin' to bring the damn thing with me whenever we set off. S’pose to help me examine my material at a quicker pace. Stars know I need all the help I can get with this one.” He looked down at his work, eyeing the Void samples that littered his working station. Beside him were countless stacks of notes and equations, all of which Strive couldn’t even dream of reading. Meouch’s markings were akin to tiny claw marks, each scribble and scratch carving into the page with a frenzied frustration; the newer notes were even more irate than the latter. “It’s almost there! I just need to figure out one final detail and then we’ll be ready to equip the energy to our weapons. If I could just stabilize this last part . . .”

“We still have time,” assured Strive, though a wavered slope infiltrated his tone. “You’re doing great, Meouch. I appreciate you taking this extra precaution.”

“Bah, it wouldn’t feel right for us to blast those poor creatures into dust. The guilt from our past attacks makes me feel sick. It’s not their fault that the Void captured them. . . . Hopefully this new weapon'll manage to separate them for good.”

Strive smiled softly. If everything went according to plan, they’d have a weapon that was only deadly to the Void shells, not the stars themselves. The goal was to attack the scavengers with their upgraded arsenal, stripping away the vile crust so the imprisoned beings could escape once and for all. Of course, there was no way of knowing if these new weapons would actually work on the wicked force—they had to remain hopeful, simply relying on Meouch’s refined expertise. Admittedly, it was a brand new field for the feline to delve into, but he refused to yield even for a moment. Such was evident by his nodding head as he fought back the weight of fatigue.

“You should take a break,” cautioned Strive. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Tsk, I’m not gonna sleep when there’s work to be done! I’ll rest once that creature is purged from the cosmos.” He dragged his eyes towards Strive, the bags beneath his gaze becoming more apparent under the fluorescent light of his workstation. “Thanks, Strive, but ya don’t need to worry about this ol’ cat. I know my own limits.” He sighed, bringing his attention back to his project. “So, what brings ya here in the first place? Just checkin’ on the progress?”

“Yes. I wanted to see how you were fairing. I’m doing my rounds on the entire crew.”

“I see. Well, I hate to break it to ya, but my work isn’t any more interestin’ than the last time ya came in. Phobos on the other hand—Bah, he's already found a way to upgrade our shields! Not that I’m complainin’, but it’s a bit of a hit on my pride to be the last one to come up with a solution.” A wobbly grin found its way across the feline’s muzzle. “He’s a smart one, I’ll give him that much. Infuriatin’ beyond belief, but incredible all the same.”

Strive managed a small laugh. “Yeah, I already checked up on him earlier. He and a few other crew members are working hard to equip the new shields on our ships—he signed something about fixing the communications as well. He already gave me the new patch for my vessel.” Out of habit, he placed a hand over his core. “It’s extraordinary work. We’ll be able to survive countless direct attacks now!”

“Don’t push yer luck, kid. The goal is to _avoid_ gettin' hit,” Meouch chuckled, his rumbling humor managing to break through the sleepy veil. He stifled a reluctant yawn. “How are ya and the doctor gettin’ along? Gettin’ a taste of leadership, eh?”

Strive felt his ears light up in embarrassment. “I’m not doing much, just throwing out a few suggestions here and there.”

“Hah, bullshit! Have more faith in yer charge, kid. From what I’ve heard, ya’ve been orchestratin’ the entire plan of attack. That’s pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.” Meouch looked upwards, his fangs poking through his sly grin. “I can see the way yer eyes light up when ya come up with different strategies. Ya’ve got a leader’s spirit in yer blood, kid. Even a blind man can see that.”

The boy blushed a fierce storm beneath his companion’s praise. He shifted in his chair, the frigid air no longer nipping at his heated form. 

Meouch cackled at the reaction. “C’mon, don’t get all frazzled on me. Ya deserve to know what a great job yer doin’, 'specially now since we’re comin’ close to the end of our mission. Ya gotta stay focused—don’t let any hesitance weigh ya down. We have faith in ya, Strive. We’re all in this together no matter what. We’ll follow ya to the ends of the cosmos; don’t y'ever forget that.”

Strive’s ears fluttered at his superior's words, his embarrassment beginning to fade when a sense of pride filled his core. To hear that the crew believed in him was reassuring. Not only what they said, but what they felt as well. He trusted their honest opinions—he was thankful that they trusted him too. 

“I should probably leave you to your work,” hummed Strive, his reddish flush beginning to dissipate. Although he had initially despised the chilly room, he began to see the benefits of such an extreme climate. Admittedly, he felt more alert in the terrible chill. Judging by the twitching bristles of Meouch’s fur and the way he huffed numerous white clouds into the air, his companion had probably set it up with this purpose in mind. It was smart, though no doubt an uncomfortable feeling to endure. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Meouch kept his eyes on his work, refusing to look up lest he risk another distraction. “Of course. This temperature is nothin’, kid.” His words raised in a humorous lift, encouraging Strive to smile through his worries. 

With a few parting words, Strive left the cold room in favour of the feverish hallways. Upon entry, he remembered how much he loathed the dizzying buzz of the frantic passage. Nevertheless, he charged through the crowds without hesitation, the mingled figures parting to the side when he marched through with a blinding resolve—quite literally. He had become famous among the crew of Headquarters, his brilliant core serving as his signature trademark. Everyone knew to respect his presence. They always let him through without a fuss.

Word had already spread that there was a new addition to their command, though nothing was official as of yet. When the Brigade had made their sudden return home, tensions flared as their time for battle came much sooner than anticipated. Everyone turned to their chief navigator for a solid plan, one that would be finalized by the confident leader of the legendary Brigade. What a surprise it was to hear that a child had been added to their high-stakes process.

Now that everyone’s eyes were trained on him, Strive could feel himself shrink beneath their stares.

However, these weren’t the same hostile glares he received back on his planet. They held no malice, nor did they seethe with bitter hatred. They were hopeful—they looked to him for guidance and reassurance. He felt his core flicker rapidly, their fears weighing on his shoulders; a crushing pressure, but it kept him motivated against his doubts. With everyone’s eyes trained on him, he couldn’t afford to let them down. Fear had no place in his core. He’d banish it just like he would the Void. 

Renewed vigor coursed through his veins as he ran for the strategy room, his breath coming out in a few strained huffs. He arrived at the room within minutes, charging his way through the door with a sudden burst of strength. He paused for a moment, hastily composing himself so he could be better understood by his senior officer. 

Immediately, he was met with a symphony of pleasant laughter. “No need to run yourself to death, kid!” chuckled Sung, his features illuminated by the transparent map in front of him. The doctor motioned him forwards, inviting him to take the open spot beside him. “You didn’t miss anything too important. It’s pretty much the same plan as before.” 

Strive let out a relieved sigh. He looked down at the immense soligram in front of him, tracing his eyes over their current blueprints. After spending countless hours glued to the screen, its appearance was practically burned into his mind. With Sung as his mentor, he had quickly learned to grasp the basic concepts of the map, their terms for battle, and the various code names they held for each unique vessel. So far, they had devised a pretty solid plan, even though the majority of it was hypothetical until their physical weapons were complete. 

“Progress report?” inquired Sung.

“Phobos is ahead of schedule,” began Strive. “He and his team have already begun altering our vessels. His estimation is that our ships will be secured by tomorrow. As for Meouch—he’s getting closer, but he still doesn’t have a final model. However, he’s thinking it’ll be done by nightfall.”

“Hmm, alright. I guess my formula outline can only go so far. Having it and putting it into practice seem to be two different things.” Sung hummed to himself for a bit and thought about their next steps. “If he can manage it by this evening, that’ll give us enough time to properly meet as a team and go over the plan. You’ve been going over the strategy with them, yes?”

Strive nodded. “I’ve been keeping them updated whenever there’s a new change. They seem to understand what we’re going for.”

“Excellent! That’ll make the debriefing process so much easier.” Sung cast his gaze to the shimmer map, hovering his fingers over their work as he double checked their proposal. “When the master Void arrives, it’ll most likely be surrounded by its lackeys. It’ll be up to us to separate as many as we can. Otherwise, we’ll be overwhelmed in an instant.”

“That’s true.” Strive looked over the map with his own set of judgements, his gaze narrowing when he found a questionable aspect. “Brian’s fleet—why don’t we spread it out towards the perimeter more? That way we can avoid any stragglers from breaking through our formation.” He motioned to the cluster of dots near the center of the map, their position cramp and muddled like a seedless pod. He leaned over the table, gently swiping his fingers over the tangible marks. He splayed his fingertips outwards, scattering the dots into a thin, but incredibly solid, line. He eyed the new formation in silence, his hand placed thoughtfully beneath his chin as he considered this new position.

Sung observed the new pattern with a proud smirk. He chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair with an encouraging smile. “Good thinking! We can better protect Headquarters that way. Nice catch, Strive.” 

Strive couldn’t contain his azure brilliance. He beamed happily at his leader’s words. 

“Since we’re switching things up, how about I do this—” Sung moved across the map with much more precision, his movements perfect from repeated exposure to the strategy table. He dragged five distinct dots across the table, placing them side-by-side in front the large prism that hovered above the map; the hologram mimicked the same intensity as the master Void. The doctor took a noticeable dot from the cluster and placed it behind the row of ships. “We’ll be the front change no matter what our final plan is, but I think it’ll benefit us to have Brian behind us as a precaution. He’ll be able to keep out backs clear during the charge.”

“Ah! Good point!” exclaimed Strive. Then, he paused, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “Speaking of Brian, where is he? I haven’t caught a glimpse of him since we got back to Headquarters.”

Sung let out a guffaw. “Hah! Get used to that. He’s known to keep to himself for the most part. It’s a wonder that any of us can keep tabs on the guy. But to get back to your question—he’s been rounding up the troops for battle. His disciplines are incredibly harsh, but the results never cease to amaze Headquarters. Those who train under Brian’s hand seem to develop a . . . sternness about them. They take their job very seriously. Or maybe they fear messing up in front of their captain. Who knows. Either way, Brian’s attack fleets are known to be some of the most brutal on this side of the cosmos.”

Strive grimaced at the description. He wasn’t sure that ‘brutal’ was the best way to describe their mission, especially since recovery was their prime objective. “They won’t destroy the stars, will they?”

“On any other mission, yes. They’d track every single one of them down and destroy their targets without hesitation.” Strive gulped at the horrible thought.

“But,” continued Sung, “if Meouch can get those weapons done in time, you won’t have to worry about the ‘brutal’ part of Brian’s fleet. If anything, you’ll be amazed by their terrifying accuracy.” 

This reassured him a little, though he still felt some apprehensions towards the stealthy being. After everything he heard about the mysterious fighter, not a moment went by where he wasn’t incredibly thankful to have the man on their side. If it were the other way around, they’d certainly be dead at the drop of a hat. Perhaps even before the article landed on the ground. How frightening.

The two companions stood in silence as the turquoise hue illuminated the quiet room, the uneasy atmosphere filled with a slew of unspoken fears. Neither wanted to appear weak in front of the other, but their reality was becoming too great to ignore. A battle was about to commence, one that would surely house casualties and indescribable pain. No matter the outcome, Strive foresaw the most horrific images in his mind, their gruesome presence lingering in his thoughts much longer than he cared to admit. 

A never-ending nightmare, one that haunted him even during times of consciousness. 

He could see it—the blood, the torment, the slow, agonizing death brought on by the Void’s vicious claws. One by one, his teammates would be slaughtered beneath the pressure. Crushing, churning, cracking; wailing, sobbing, crying. He could hear their voices call out to him, each one begging to be saved—to be spared from the agonizing pain that he had brought them into. All he could do was scream in silence, choking on his grief and pleading for their forgiveness; for their lives as well. At the thought of his companions’ suffering, Strive could hardly keep himself upright. 

Every sense in his body caterwauled in protest. He should be running away from certain death, not towards it. He should be protecting his family, not dragging them to their demise. Doubt began to coil around his throat, threatening to suffocate him in its despicable grasp. He felt breathless—he felt like a walking corpse. 

They were all walking corpses. 

But at least they were still moving.

“After we defeat the Void, I’m going to bring you all to my home planet.”

Sung looked over in surprise at the sudden break of silence. The man paused as if he was about to speak, only to falter when his words fizzled into nothing. He exhaled slowly, trying to locate his missing voice. “I’m sure it’s very beautiful. Your mother used to speak highly of your planet.”

“There’s nothing more amazing than the stars of Moebius," said Strive, dreamily. "I’ll show you all the paths my mother traced for me. I’ll tell you all the stories she used to tell me during my youth. You’ll come to understand their importance just as I was taught by her. We’ll watch the stars and sit beneath their starlight—together. All of us.”

The doctor smiled sadly and raised his head to the ceiling, his weary imagination painting a celestial masterpiece. He hadn’t given the stars much thought before he met Avida. When he listened to Strive's words, his chest grew heavy with longing, wishing for the chance to view what his past companion held so dear to her core. This bittersweet thought kept him hopeful for the future—it gave him something to fight for.

A pleasant warmth filled his aching chest. A promise from the past, one he was determined to finally fulfill. How long had it been since he felt this hopeful? How long had it been since he yearned for something so strongly? His purpose—it was nearly complete. Once the mission was over, he looked forward to living his life to the fullest. No more restraints, no more regrets. He wanted to live. Stars, how he wanted to live. 

“I’d like that, Strive,” he whispered gently. “I really would.”  


  
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Strive didn’t need the alarm to alert him of the Void's presence—he had sensed it the moment they opened their final Bridge.

He barrelled for the shipyard with as much speed as he could muster. He weaved through the bustling hallways and charged through the hysteric confusion, his core’s light serving as a tool to part the chaotic sea before him. The crowd looked on as Strive catapulted himself towards the landing docks; he could already hear the shrill whine of hundreds of ships taking off into battle.

With no time to recover his breath, he threw himself to the docks and ran towards his teammate’s ships. Thankfully, it would seem that everyone had just arrived. This gave him a chance to exhale through the nerves—he hadn’t kept them waiting long. 

Sung motioned his crew forward, his voice stern and unusually serious. “Commander, report.”

“Ship’s weapons are installed and ready for battle, doctor,” rumbled Meouch. He stood proudly above the rest of the members, his chest puffed out as he awaited further instructions. 

“Great. Lord Phobos, all defences are secure and ready for action?”

The rocketeer gave a hearty salute; everything was in order.

“Perfect. Havve Hogan, is your protocol up to date and functioning?”

The robot twitched his grapsers in anticipation. His ruby eyes narrowed as his internal drumming kicked into a tumultuous storm. “Of course, doctor. All systems are ready.” 

“Good. As for Brian, I already gave him permission to advance into battle. He and his troops have begun lining Headquarters in a defensive maneuver. Once we set off, the fleet will follow us and support us in our mission to separate the scavengers. All of our tests confirm that our weapons will be successful in stripping the stars of the Void’s influence. No harm will come of the stars, is that understood?”

The team nodded. They began to grow impatient as precious seconds slipped from their grasp. 

Sung grinned, letting his gaze wander over each of his teammates. Strive could sense waves of powerful emotion wash over his leader, their potency nearly dragging him into its torrential waters. Sung’s exterior was strong and steadfast, yet his heart wavered like a leaf in a hurricane. The man was both eager and hesitant to charge into their final battle. His silent woes remained confined to the Moebians' keen senses—judging by how much Havve’s internal drumming skipped its tempo, it was safe to assume that the robot was experiencing the same turmoil as his partner. 

Not just Sung and Havve, but Phobos and Meouch as well. Strive could see the feline’s whiskers tremble, the tip of his tail flicker across the ground, and the slight chatter hidden beneath his muzzle. He remained stoic, yet his eyes betrayed his composure. They were wide and unblinking, a yellow hue swamped with harrowed uncertainty.

In a rather sweet gesture, it seemed like Phobos was trying to comfort his worried brother. The rocketeer was plagued by his own scattered jitters, yet he kept close to the feline’s side, brushing his glove against Meouch’s lashing tail whenever it came near him. He’d grab a hold of it, gently squeezing the bristled fur before letting it fall to the ground. In a humorous turn of events, it would seem that Meouch would place it back in the rocketeer’s grasp. Strive had no way of knowing whether or not this was on purpose or purely an unconscious action on the feline’s part. Regardless of the reason, it was quite endearing to witness. 

The fuzziness in his core quickly faded once the doctor stepped aside, the man having left the Brigade in the hands of their youngest companion. Strive shivered, the weight of his new found authority chilled him to the bones. He let his gaze wander over his friends—no, his family. He traced each of their unique features with great care, refusing to forget any of their important details before their battle. He wanted to remember them. He wanted to keep them close no matter what the future had in store.

They could all die today. Or, they could be laughing beneath the blanket of his starry planet. 

Strive wished for the second outcome with all of his might. 

“Are you guys ready?” he asked. He cringed at the way his voice shook. 

One by one, his teammates nodded. Their eyes flashed with an array of different emotions, each one much too complex to decipher with a single glance. They held concern, fear, and terrible apprehension. They also housed excitement, blinding courage, vibrant determination, and the heart wrenching mist of fondness. They watched their young companion with the warmth of pride. Their eyes glimmered with dewy, familial love. 

Strive fought to contain the choking tightness in his words. They were about to do it—this was real. No longer a cowering bystander, he was about to charge straight into a cosmic battle. Suddenly, all of his worries faded into nothing with the rest of the light and sound; he felt strangely at peace. His core’s light quickened as an azure fire lit within his chest, their flames lashing out at all those who challenged its resolve. He palmed his core with a shuddering breath as the urge to fly swept him off his feet. At last, it was time to go.

It was time to face their ultimate nightmare.  


  
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The Brigade shot into the air with a clamorous explosion, their insane speeds breaking through the silence of the open cosmos. Their colourful engines carved rich gashes across the abyss, each of their unique hues bleeding into the blank terrain. Courageous red coiled into roaring indigo; gold’s confidence mellowed beside emerald’s calm; gallant azure led the way on star clade wings. Strive’s entire body tensed as he ushered their army towards the hideous mass in front of them. They had seen it on their sensors, but nothing could prepare them for the grievous sight before them. 

Thousands of viridian eyes clawed the desolate skies and advanced against their wills, their twitching bodies pushed forwards by the monumental prism behind them. Their jagged forms stuttered, their movements seeming strained and unnatural as their bent to the will of their puppet master. Despite their stumbling posture, they held onto the same dreary tone as before, thought this time their words had been noticeably altered. Upon hearing their new battle calls, Strive felt his core plummet to his stomach.

_Rip apart. Tear them to shreds. Little Starling—destroy. Destroy the Starling. Destroy the Brigade. The great Starlight Brigade. Mutilate. Ravage. Cripple. Butcher. Kill them all._

Their tortured wails hung in the air like a somber opera, each new tone just as chilling as the last. He shook his head in discomfort, their terrible moans threatening to send him to his knees. It was absolutely revolting to endure.

Strive called for his teammates. He summoned their features onto his viewing window, his sullen face causing them to narrow their eyes in concern. “We have to remain vigilant as we get closer to the cluster. The Void must have ordered them to focus on the Brigade as their primary target. They’re dead set on killing us right now.”

Sung let out an uneasy chuckle on his side of the screen. “Well, what else is new? I’d be surprised if they didn’t want a piece of us after all the trouble we caused them.”

Given their current circumstances, Strive thought it inappropriate to laugh. However, that didn’t stop him from stifling a small guffaw in light of Sung’s cheekiness. “If anything, I think the Void wants me dead well before any of you.” Sung immediately lost his smile at the grim statement. “I figured it would be like that anyways. All the more reason for me to fight to the end, yeah? Besides, my star and I have a score to settle with that monster,” he snarled. 

“Speakin’ of the Void,” grumbled Meouch. “It’s hidin’ behind the army, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It seems hesitant to put itself out in the line of fire.” Strive peered through his window as the Void fleet slowly advanced towards their formation. His core flickered in confusion when he beheld the green barrier across the Void’s exterior. The sheet covered its entire front like a transparent shield, even the ghastly slit at the top having been obscured behind the veil. This gave him some hope in terms of avoiding its blast, yet new anxieties began to boil beneath the surface as he came to a new conclusion. He hastily explained his findings. 

“Bah, that’s just great!” growled Meouch. “I created these weapons with the intent of separatin’ the stars from their shells, not as a shield blastin’ phaser! How are we gonna get through somethin’ like that?”

“We’ll come to that thought when we’re further down the road,” Strive said grimly. He gnawed his bottom lip, wondering how they were going to break through its defences. Their weapons weren’t meant to destroy—they were meant to free the stars. Now that there was a shield in place, the original plan became much more difficult to execute. 

_“We should focus on lowering their numbers first,”_ suggested Phobos, his synthetic voice firm and confident. _“Before we send our troops into the fray, we should probably see if these weapons even work like we hypothesized. Not that I’m doubting your work, Meouch. We just need to be certain with something as risky as this.”_

“No offense taken,” assured the feline. “For once, I find myself agreein' with ya. Who's willin’ to take the first shot?”

As their conversations played out, Strive watched with growing unease as the Void ships closed the distance between themselves and the Brigade; their howls grew louder with each passing second. Unlike his companions, he had no way of attacking the scavengers on his own. He was meant to serve as a distraction, utilizing his vessel's organic movements as a way to confuse the enemy. It wasn’t a glorious job by any means, but it was certainly one of the most important tasks to bear. 

He was their shining guide through the chaos, their protector too. Much like the celestial beings they were fighting to reclaim. 

“I’d be glad to start us off.”

Strive looked at his monitor when the familiar voice chimed through his mind. “Are you sure, Havve?”

The robot nodded his head, his scarlet eyes glimmering at the promise of a long awaited vengeance. “I’ve been itching to blast those beasts into pieces. It would be my honour to shatter the first of those vile creatures.” Havve’s eyes bore into his young companion with a frightful intensity. Crimson lights burned into the monitor, their murderous aura unmistakable even at a distance.

The boy bobbed his head slowly. “Alright,” he began, “you can have the first target. But remember what we’re trying to do, okay? We’re not killing the scavengers, we’re _freeing_ them. None of them will be hurt under my watch, is that clear?”

Havve stalled for a moment, his head twitching to the side as he tried to grasp what Strive was saying. Sparks erupted within the robot’s circuits while his protocol clicked into its proper place, his new orders quickly overriding his primal desires. “Of course. My apologies, Strive. I was . . . thinking of a past event.” Havve refused to elaborate any further than that, his memories much too painful to bring up in their current situation. 

Strive’s eyes softened when he listened to the poor creature’s drumming—swamped with an irregular tempo, it sounded as if he were suppressing a dreadful cry. The long, woeful moan of his tightening circuits remained hidden to the rest of the crew. While it wasn’t the blood bath he was used to, Strive hoped this unique attack would be enough to satisfy the robot’s hunger for revenge.

“Send us off, Havve. Let’s rid the world of the Void once and for all!”

Havve’s eyes tapered to a fine point, his jaw raised into a sinister smirk. “It would be my pleasure, little Starlight.”

Strive called for his team to fall back when Havve moved to the front. The team hovered with bated breaths and listened to the thundering drums of the robot’s charging weapons. The atmosphere vibrated from the tremendous energy that coiled at the center of Havve’s thrusters, their emerald glare cutting across the Void ship’s approaching fleet. The scavengers froze in place, their vacant eyes dilating in preparation for an attack of their own. The team braced themselves inside their vessel, their hands trained on their weapons as they prepared to defend their troops.

Gripping his pillars, Strive felt a nervous grin wobble to the surface while he watched the stressful event unfold. He dragged his gaze across his friends, then to the hundreds of ships that hovered behind them. They all sat in an anxious silence, daring not to move without their leader’s signal. This was the moment that it finally sunk in—their leader, it was him. He was their guide, their captain, their ultimate command against their terrible enemy. They were watching him in a thunderous symphony, their unified heartbeats pumping and churning as they faced their final crusade with unwavered bravery. 

They were waiting—Strive decided to end the suspense. 

He raised his hand to the air, his defiance setting his gaze aflame. He watched his enemy prepare to release their first devastating strike. Strive smirked—their sluggishness would be their downfall.

“Fire!” he screamed across the monitor.

In one fluid motion, he threw his hand down on his controls and summoned a burst of white hot ignition. The Brigade heard his valiant call, as did the rest of their troops. Havve revelled in the pleasure he gained when his weapons pierced through the blank skies, engulfing the terrible creatures in an explosion of emerald flames. 

Left to smoulder in the open space, the pile crackled and sizzled as the onyx shards slowly loosened their grip on its vibrant centre. Strive kept his eyes trained on the bubbling mass. Then, he let out a triumphant howl when a stark white form raced from the confines of the Void. He followed the brilliant creature’s dance through the cosmos, a beautiful song shimmering among the vacant skies. The celestial being quickly fled the battlefield and zipped to another part of the galaxy, rejoicing by stretching its ethereal wings towards a long awaited freedom.

Viridian light was snuffed out in a silence surprise. The scavengers ceased their attack as they beheld the remains of their brethren. Rather, the chains of their freed companion. They shuddered when a voiceless command forced them to regain their unwilling composures, their malicious sickness much too strong to resist. Without a mind of their own, the scavengers focused their attack directly in line with the Brigade. 

Strive grinned wildly as his vessel threw itself into their incoming attack. The rest of the team followed suit, their weapons charged and ready to fire without a moment’s hesitation. Pure elation took hold when he saw the scavengers light up in chartreuse flames, their hideous forms crumbling away as celestial essences leaped towards their new found freedom. 

The weightless atmosphere was suddenly alive with chaos and confusion. Sulfuric beams tore through the smoke like a ghastly blade, each one of their shots failing to graze their desired target. Strive nearly doubled over with laughter as he led his pursuers through the anarchy, his core fluttering with the joys of adrenaline. He saw an increase of scavengers accumulate near his back thrusters, their jade eyes narrowed to a fine point in preparation for a flurry of blasts.

Lucky for Strive, he had an amazing team to back him up. 

His assailants suddenly exploded into millions of fractured shards, their vile eyes fading to black as precious starlight flowed from their wounds. Strive’s vessel shivered with delight when the essence found time to coil around its form, their voiceless thanks managing to reach his glimmering core. He laughed gleefully and bid farewell to the renegade stars. He briefly wondered where these stars were going and if he had seen them before. Their feathery fondness seemed familiar, almost as if they were acquainted with his vessel. At the thought of freeing his star’s close companions, Strive couldn’t contain his triumphant grin. 

He quickly swooped out of the way of an incoming beam, his attacker swiftly falling prey to his companion’s scarlet weapons. “Thanks, Phobos!” he called across the monitor. 

The rocketeer’s image didn’t materialize, but his charming attitude sure did. A series of artificial beeps echoed through Strive’s vessel as he joined in on the intoxicating rush of battle. The boy led his ship into a group of incoming scavengers, only to careen out of the way when Phobos fired his weapons through the cluster at point blank range. The beam easily crashed through their line of soldiers. Each vessel erupted into a pile of smouldering debris, their prisoners rapidly escaping once their restraints had been loosened. 

Once he was sure that Phobos could hold his own, Strive lured a few more scavengers into his dizzying waltz across the battlefield. He heckled the onyx beasts, a mischievous smirk wobbling to the surface when he heard their confused warbling dribble into his thoughts. Narrowly avoiding their beams, he let out an annoyed growl when his pursuers managed to get the jump on him. He came to a sudden halt when a handful of scavengers blocked his path, their apertures thin and focused in preparation for an attack. For that single moment in time, he felt a suffocating dread grip his core, their vacant stares nearly claiming his soul.

“I’ve got ya, Strive!”

Indigo fires rippled across the scavengers as Meouch’s vessel barrelled into the remaining enemies, his sudden impact managing to send the beasts into a dizzying spiral. With no time to regain their composure, the jagged creatures were peeled and flayed by the Brigade’s specialized weapons, their abhorrent shells dissolving into a smoulder pile of ash. 

Strive heaved a sigh of relief, his core still flickering from the mild panic. “Stars, that was close! Thanks for the backup, Meouch!”

“Anytime, kiddo! Keep those senses sharp, ya hear? They’re startin’ to get more aggressive.”

The feline’s voice hastily left the communicator when he was forced to combat another slew of incoming enemies. True to his words, the remaining scavengers appeared much more restless than when they first started attacking. Their movements were sharp and jittering, their weapons beginning to fire at inconsistent rates as their frustrations grew. Not only did their irate state grow, but their overall numbers as well. 

No matter how many scavengers the team managed to destroy, more would take their place. They’d swarm the skies like an infestation, their viridian eyes ablaze with malicious desires that were not their own. Although Headquarter's troops were doing a commendable job at holding down the fort—especially that mysterious Brian, his beast-like carrier slicing through their enemies without breaking a sweat—it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to their fatigue. Like all living creatures, they were susceptible to the burden of exhaustion; the Void knew no such thing.

Strive snarled in annoyance when he was forced to dodge an incoming beam. His vessel swooped to the side with the ease of an avian creature, though the same couldn’t be said for the vessel that endured the attack. He gasped when he saw one of their troops fall at the hands of the Void, their ship much too damaged to have sustained any more attacks. His ears trembled in despair as he watched their life be claimed by chartreuse claws, their weakened ship boiling beneath the oozing, liquid flames. 

He had no time to mourn his nameless ally, swiftly throwing himself into a harrowed arch above his enemies. They warbled with irritation when he managed to avoid their devious ambush. Driven by pure chaos, the scavengers fired blindly through the air in an attempt to land a hit on his vessel. Strive circled around the blasts, his ship curving its body at impossible angles as it tried to evade their overwhelming barrage. 

Strive bit back a cry when he felt a beam graze the edge of his wing. While not a terrible pain due to their enhanced defences, it still throbbed something fierce. He muttered a few choice words and quickly dove through the overbearing group, his dexterity still holding strong despite the damages he received. Amidst the harrowed line of fire, he scanned the skies for a familiar ally, his eyes widening when he located the perfect machine for the job.

“I need a little help here!” he called across their communication. He looked back, his core fluttering nervously as the fleet neared his vessel's back fins. He stifled a strained chuckle. “Now would be great, Hogan!”

Strive barrelled through the active fields in an attempt to shake his persistent followers. In an act of desperation, he tried to bring the scavengers directly into Havve’s line of sight. Lucky for him, Havve was already on the case. The robot fired an array of emerald blasts, each one slicing through the scavengers like a sword to flesh. Their remains sloshed apart, their white hot blood oozing from their wounds and into the unknown above. 

Fighting back his gnawing exhaustion, he thanked his artificial companion with a few shaky breaths. “I owe you one, Havve. They got pretty close to finishing me off.”

“Please be careful, Strive. You’re beginning to falter from the constant stress.” Havve’s concerned tone resonated across the line, his creaky words sounding much more tense than usual. “Your vessel—it's been hit. You’ve been damaged. You can’t keep throwing yourself into the fray like a wild animal! The Void will soon catch up to you!”

“I’m fine!” barked Strive. “It’s nothing, really. Just a bit of a scratch.” He kept his words strong, though his laboured breathing was certainly noticeable to the robot. He cursed himself for even getting hit in the first place, the impact having affected his endurance much more than he cared to admit. Now was not the time to give into exhaustion—there never would be a time. He had to keep fighting, even if it was to his final breath. “I’m the perfect distraction in this fight. With the majority of scavengers trained on my vessel, I can lure them away from you guys. It’s easier to attack them when they’re preoccupied with their chase.”

The robot grimaced in Strive's mind. “That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I’m any less worried about you! If your conditions worsens you might—”

“That won’t happen!” he snapped. Upon hearing his abrasive tone, Strive apologized for his rudeness. “That won’t happen,” he repeated, a careful calm laced between his words. “I’m nowhere near that stage. I can keep fighting, trust me. Nothing will take me away from this battle, especially not that looming bastard in the background.”

The duo quickly swooped out of the way when a group of scavengers tried to gang up on Strive’s vessel. With a flick of his multiple wrists, Havve sent a devastating blast in their wake. Once the smoke cleared, the robot continued their conversation as if nothing had occurred. “I’ve tried to land a few hits on the shield, but it won’t budge. My attacks simply phase into the barrier.”

“Damn it, you can’t get through at all?”

“Not by myself, no. But perhaps without enough force we could manage to chip away at its defences. It’s possible that our combined weapons could weaken its strength with enough stress from our blasts. However, we’d need everyone at the same time, effectively leaving us wide open to an attack from behind.” 

Strive weighed his options thoroughly. To send his team directly into the Void’s barrier was incredibly risky, especially since they’d have no way of protecting themselves. “Brian and his troops are already watching out backs. They could distract the scavengers long enough for us to figure out a weakness in the shield.”

“A wise plan, but how long will it last? I’ve noticed that our troops are beginning to succumb to fatigue; ourselves included. While I don’t suffer the same exhaustion as living beings, fighting on my own would prove fatal without the proper back up.” Havve’s voice lowered in a cautious strum. “We’re running out of time, Strive. We need to act quickly if we want to come out of this alive.”

Bitter growls rose from Strive's chest when he realized his companion was correct. They had been fighting non-stop for nearly an hour, their reserves gradually fading as weariness gripped their bodies. Even his team’s audio seemed strained while they fought to keep their advantage. Unfortunately, their lead was beginning to fade, a flickering light at risk of extinguishing in their typhonic war. Time was limited—the Void ships were endless. 

“We’re getting nowhere right now. We have to switch it up; we need to take that risk.” Strive could practically feel the robot’s circuits tighten in shock. “I’m going to make the call. Havve, stay by my side while I round up the others.”

Havve whirred in the boy’s mind and accepted his new orders. From his viewing window, Strive could see the bulky ship float closer to his vessel as it focused all its attention on targeting any incoming scavengers. With his loyal companion by his side, he hastily open their communications, calling out to all his teammates with the confidence of a fearless leader.

“I want all of you to come to Havve and I’s location. I'm ordering a new approach—we’re going to charge directly for the center of the Void.”

At the mention of such an unbelievable plan, Strive’s screen instantly lit up with the faces of his dear companions, their features seeming worn and rattled by such shocking news.

“Ya want us to charge at that thing?” hissed Meouch. His shoulders heaved at uneven rates while he focused on countering an attack in front of him. His screen trembled from the aftershock of his weapons. “Kid, we’ve tried that already! Our blasts don’t even leave a scratch on that thing, let alone any sort of damage! Ya still want us to barrel towards it knowin’ that our weapons don’t work?”

Strive’s ears lowered at the feline’s accusatory tone, his feathery points shaking from how taut they were pulled. Biting back his doubts, he shook his head in protest and glared at his companion with a molten gaze. “By themselves, they can’t do much. But if we combine our strikes to one section we might be able to break through! We need to take down the master Void, otherwise we’re as good as dead. At this point, it’s honestly all we’ve got.” 

“But . . .” Meouch’s growl died in his throat once he came to terms with their situation. He was terribly exhausted, his engines having sustained a few damages along the way. For him to continue any longer would surely bring about his end. Not only him, but the rest of his teammates as well. “Bah, to hell with it! If I’m gonna die I might as well go up in billowin’ flames!”

Strive lit up at the loyal declaration. “I agree. What do you have to say, Phobos? Sung?”

 _“I’d follow you anywhere, Strive.”_ said Phobos. The rocketeer flashed a hasty salute, his arm trembling from prolonged stress. _“It’s like you said yourself—we really have no other options here. If you think this’ll give us a fighting change, then I’m in. Our chances may seem slim, but I choose to humor the idea of incredible possibility.”_ The rocketeer beeped genially and pledged his life to their final charge, his words lacking any hesitance in the face of their daunting task.

Strive nearly cried out with joy, a warm sentimentality pooling in his glowing core. Finally, he looked expectantly towards Sung.

He was quiet; eerily so. Strive tapped his fingers nervously on his control pillars, his vessel shivering in response to the anxious touch. The man’s silence weighed on him with a devastating pressure, the push and pull of the force nearly crushing the boy’s trembling centre. Stagnant claws creeped along his throat. Sung’s final words; what would they be?

“I know you’re waiting for my response,” he said slowly, his voice dragging in a low drawl. Strive held his breath. “What else is there for me to say? My devotion to the cause, to your mother’s dying wish—to you, our Starlight . . . I never had any doubts going into this fight. My loyalties lie with you, just as they always have.” The doctor smirked and let forth a courageous howl. “I believe in you, Strive! Lead us to victory, Starlight!”

Strive nearly burst into tears. To have the support and faith of his treasured companions was enough to banish the lingering darkness of his doubts. A wobbly grin lit up his features as he thanked the stars for giving him the chance to embark on this outlandish adventure. Hope blossomed while hesitance crumbled. He called forth the final charge, their weapons trained and ready to fire on the Void’s impenetrable skin.

In a flurry of dazzling lights, the team fired their weapons in a unified streak of power, their beams coiling into one another as they trained their coruscating energy onto one specific spot, burning their roaring battle cries into the sleek material. Their combined force scintillated across the barrier, lashing, lapping, and rolling against the Void’s shelter. Without any weapons of his own, Strive let out a rippling scream, encouraging the primal call to tear at his throat when his vessel collided with the malicious shield. 

The barrier cracked; it splintered against the crushing force of his valiant star.

Upon seeing this, the rest of the crew quickly followed their leader’s charge. They revved their engines and forced their ships to collide with the wavering shield, a guttural shriek emanating from their tortured ignitions. Across his monitor, Strive could hear the various alarms that plagued his teammates’ vessels as they urged their pilots to cease their perilous onslaught. Strive had no such alarms, though his body yowled in protest when he continued forwards, each passing second threatening to reach unbearable levels. 

“Come on!” he growled to himself, his arms beginning to cramp from prolonged stress. He bared his teeth, willing a blast of ignition to flow from his thrusters; it sputtered once, then again soon after. Sweat began to dot his brow once physical exhaustion set in, its terrible weights clasping themselves to his arms. Strive heaved crooked breaths, his lungs feeling as if they were chained and bound, their precious air ripped away with a howling protest. He could hear the haunting moans of his vessel as it endured great pains, its woes gradually affecting its pilot when their protective barrier weakened.

Strive scowled when a terrible laugh echoed through his mind, their haughty words slithering like the tongue of a wretched creature. The Void uttered its contempt, sneering with invisible fangs while it mocked the Brigade’s brave efforts. It trilled a hideous purr, wrapping the noxious sounds around Strive’s core; he shivered, nearly knocked to the ground by the abhorrent nausea. Dread pooled within his chest, its sickly viscosity nearly choking him. Engulfed in the Void’s influence, he had no time to react when a scavenger snuck through the Brigade’s fleet, training its eyes on the weakest part of his wings.

His teammates barked a slew of distraught warnings, but it was too late. The awful force threw Strive to his knees. He howled in unspeakable pain, his left arm feeling as if it were doused in viridian flames. Through unfocused waters, he looked towards his affected wing, gasping at the devilish fires on the surface, the hideous disease slowly crawling up the rest of the appendage. He shivered in anguish when he felt each flame sear into his skin, their talons ripping into his terrorized flesh. 

He looked to the sides, horror-stricken as the rest of his team was gradually overwhelmed by the advancing scavengers. Headquarters’ soldiers tried their best to keep up with the sudden increase, but their weapons proved ineffective against the sheer number of ships. Reinforcements struggled to pass the barrier as more Void ships hovered above the Brigade, letting loose a flurry of attacks on the vulnerable knights. 

Strive could hear his companion’s fear. Their thin gasps, startled shrieks, confused beeps and panicked whirring—it crackled across the monitor like an awful symphony. Bound to his position, the boy screamed when another beam crashed into his weakened vessel, this time slashing across the front of his ship. He cried out as a bloody gash tore apart his skin, the nasty wound dripping scarlet waters beneath his fading vision. He wheezed a few tight breaths, his core’s light flickering in bouts of pure agony. To his horror, his azure light started to fade, his vessel shutting down as it succumbed to its wounds. 

With a shivering arm, Strive reached for his vessel’s light, begging for it to hold on a little longer. He began to drift into a dull state of mind, his core sputtering pitifully while his lifeforce drained, his vitals seeping into the Void’s gluttonous grasp. He raised his head, struggling to inhale his last breath; he saw himself in the reflection of his catatonic ship. Trembling, bloody, and brought to his knees at the hands of their enemy—a fallen star. That’s all he was. Far-off cackles pierced his hazy ears, its awful tone muffled and increasingly difficult to decipher. He felt his eyes fade to a deathly grey hue.

Strive hovered his outstretched palm over the ship’s reflection, reaching with a shivering hand in an attempt to preserve his core’s life. The light flickered; the winds of chaos consumed the glow in one fell swoop. Lingering tears cascaded down his cheeks as his eyes rolled back into his head, their starry light extinguished by the poisons of battle. His arm fell to the ground with a sickening crash, his shoulders slumped, his head lulled downwards into a lifeless slumber. 

The Brigade howled in a mournful anguish as they watched their Starlight fade before their very eyes, his life brought to a halt by the nightmare in front of them. Amidst the horror of battle, the remaining fighters felt their resolve slip from their trembling fingers—they collapsed beneath the weight of despair. A haunted symphony filled the cosmos as they grieved their companion’s death, each of their forlorn songs sickening beyond belief. A caterwaul ensued, one of grievous surrender. 

Without their Starlight, they had no fight left in their weary souls. No chance, no drive; no hope for the battle’s triumph.

Strive was gone—their Starlight, defeated.  


  
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He was running. No, sprinting through the pentrawren fields on a weightless stride. Their glossy petals sifted through his legs, their delicate forms brushing against him with feathered coos and faint whispers that tickled his dismal core. He laughed in a childish lift, his voice just as light as it had been in the past. Strive hopped through the flowers, his ghostly steps hardly disturbing the vibrant foliage. 

Beyond the flowerbeds lay endless fields of nothingness. Its heavy voice called for Strive, promising to rock him into a blissful slumber if he chose to stray from his path. The boy was tempted, stopping his joyous frolic so he could peer into the unknown. At times, he felt inclined to step into the veil, though he didn’t understand why. With curiosity getting the better of him, he nearly placed a small foot into the calming shadows, only to be pulled back by a gentle, guiding hand. He gasped, surprised by how warm it was in this realm of darkness.

Strive looked back, his eyes wide with confusion when he found himself alone in the mysterious field. He studied his tiny palm, curling his fingers as he remembered their soft touch against his skin. He dragged his fingers across the lines of his youthful palm, his colourless touch cold and lifeless. He blinked, his mind swamped by the lingering haze of his mortality.

He didn’t understand. Was he supposed to?

He walked the grey path in silence, his dull eyes trailing over the shivering forms of the pentawrens. Out of future habit, his placed a hand over the lifeless gem, his fingers twitching nervously against the frigid temperature. Strive furrowed his eyebrows in concern—this was wrong. It didn’t feel right at all. 

He looked around the clearing, falling back in shock when a suffocating darkness slowly creeped across his line of sight. Dull panic tugged at his centre, urging for him to run away. Strive stumbled forwards and raced through the fields, his breathing hitched as he tumbled into the endless unknown. Remaining mindful to stay on path, he kept himself in the middle of the field, weaving his way through the misty forms of the blooms. Suddenly, he dug his heels into the ground when the flowers came to an abrupt end, their path torn and shredded at its mauled peak. 

Strive looked around in a frantic manner, his vacant eyes widening at the crumbling path behind him. A terrified whine escaped him when he found himself surrounded by the continual darkness, its voice no longer sweet as it cackled at his misfortunes, heckling his hopeless situation. Its sickly tongue taunted him, relishing in his terror.

Cornered by the abyss, Strive looked to the blank skies for guidance, though he could not fathom why he did this. He searched the nothingness, his ashen core howling for its missing essence. Suddenly, he saw it—a glimmering dot in the sky. He gasped loudly, floored by its incredible beauty and the blinding light it produced. He palmed his core, feeling a dull ache gnaw at his chest.

That dot . . . that star. It was his—it belonged to him, didn't it?

Raised on the tips of his toes, Strive reached for the celestial being, his fingers quivering as he stretched to his full height. Grunting from the effort, the boy willed himself to go further, his entire body wracked with trembles as he pushed his limits to the point of exhaustion. He gasped, a hopeless dread keeping him weighed to the ground. 

He wanted it. He _needed_ that star. 

He could hear it, that soft voice of his past. The way her words cradled him fondly, her gentle embrace, her boundless devotion as she carried him closer to the sky—his mother. She gave it to him, entrusting it to live within his starry eyes. He was so close. He could practically feel the stardust on his fingertips, their whimsy calls begging to bring life back to his stagnant core. He was so close, yet terribly far.

Now, he was back on the ground, confined to an earthly existence, one that was close to its untimely end. 

He couldn’t reach. He couldn’t save himself from his death. Strive howled in despair when his world closed around him. Thick, black tendrils slowly crawled around his form, their embrace cold and unforgiving as they promised a land without light. A thoughtless existence, a mundane realm; an end to his reality.

He called out, his words twisting into a familiar name, one he hadn’t uttered since her disappearance all those years ago. He called for his mother, begging to be saved from the monster of his nightmares. He screamed to be heard, yet he expected nothing in return, much like his years alone on Moebius. She was gone, far from his reach just like his precious star. He couldn’t reach them—he never could. 

“But you can, Strive. You _must_.”

Gentle hands wrapped around his waist and lifted him towards the speck in the sky, their shimmering laugh washing over the clearing with a purifying glow. The familiar cadence banished the surrounding darkness, beckoning for the star to dance across the boy’s outstretched palm. Strive could hardly believe it, his words a mere whisper as his tears fell down his cheeks, his mouth moving in time with the precision of his past. “Mama . . .”

Despite not being able to see her, he could envision her brilliant smile, her eyes warm with fondness as she lifted her child towards his star. “Reach, my little Starlight. I promised you the stars, didn’t I? Now's your chance to hold them in your palm—take it, Strive. Take back what’s rightfully yours!” 

“But I—” he sobbed before the darkness, his core plagued with a bittersweet pang at the sound of his mother's voice. After all these years, he finally had her back. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to leave me again!” 

She glimmered sadly and urged her son forwards. “You can’t stay here, Strive. You need to go back. Your friends, they need you to continue fighting. They’re lost without you. They need their guiding light—they need their Starlight.” 

Strive shook his head, his eyesight blurred from starlit tears. “But I need you! I don’t want to lose you! I-I can’t, not again, mama! Please!” His youthful cry echoed through the fading clearing, their raw despair chilling his mother’s ashen core. “You can’t leave me . . .”

Avida smiled softly, her celestial eyes turning towards her son’s vibrant star. “Oh, little Starlight, I’ll always be by your side. I know it’s hard to let go, but you must. My time is over, but yours is just beginning! You must keep going, Strive. If not for me, then for your treasured companions. For the Starlight Brigade!”

"The Brigade . . . ?" These words were familiar on his tongue, but they were not of this time. He traced the strange word slowly, stumbling when he tried to represent its future importance.

His mother's voice quickened once urgency took hold. "Yes, try to remember them. Your companions, they mourn your absence. Can you not hear them, Starlight? Do you not feel their anguish in your core?" 

Strive's bottom lip quivered. Something awful stirred in his lifeless chest, an aching pain that was not his own. It called to him, begging for him to respond. It reached out, but failed to guide him through the turmoil. Snivelling, the child shook his head in an attempt to banish those terrible voices. "I won't leave you! I want to stay with you forever! Just like we used to be . . ." Each sobbing hiccup muddled his misty vision. "You can't fly away, mama. I don't . . . I don't want to be alone again."

"Strive, you're not alone anymore. The Void may have taken me from you, but that doesn't mean you're without a family. Your teammates, they mean the world to you, don't they?" The woman showered her son in her sonorous laughter, her gentle words slowly parting the dreary haze. "I've seen them. I've watched the Brigade grow in my absence, marvelling at how it's flourished into something far beyond a simple crew. I'm so thankful that you've found each other.

"I left this world knowing that my vows would live on. Although it was painful, I couldn't bare to see their lives come to an end, not when they had just begun to live for themselves. My past companions . . . they've carried on, pushing through the despair so my dying wish could be fulfill. They cherished you just as I did—they still do. Strive, they can't lose you, too. They can't bare another bout of heartbreak. It would surely end them."

Strive growled wretchedly. "I don't care! I'm not leaving, you can't make me—"

"Meouch," she began. Strive's eyes widened at the abrasive name, his feathered ears bristling as navy rumbles travelled through his core. She continued through the list, relaying all that she had gathered from her son's whimsy thoughts. "Phobos," she said slowly, letting the foreign name dance across her tongue. Her core seized painfully when she remembered her dear teammates, their names bittersweet, like verbal tears. "Havve . . . and Sung. These are your friends, Strive. These are the beings who have vowed to bring back the stars. They treasure you, they love you just as much as I did during my life. You can't forget them—have the courage to push forward! I know it burns within you, Starlight!"

Strive gasped when his mind broke through the fog, his eyes widening at thought of his friends. “Stars, I can’t give up now. They’re still fighting—they need me! My family, they . . . I can’t let them die.” His core flickered. “I _won’t_ let them die!”

“Then reach! Reach for the stars, Strive, and take that power for yourself! Save them, please.” Avida’s words lingered in the desolate air. Their meaning was drenched with a ferocious rawness, a vulnerable crack in the woman’s drifting soul. “Please, Strive. Keep them safe.”

His mother brought him closer to his star.

"But what about you?" he asked softly. His fingertips grazed the vibrant speck, a pleasant warmth travelling through his body upon contact. 

"Don't worry about me, I'll always be close by. In times of trouble, look towards the stars. Let them guide you just as I've done before." Her ghostly voice flowed through the winds, wrapping their tender hush around her beloved son. "Don't cry, little Starlight. Rejoice in the victory you'll bring to the cosmos." Avida's whispers began to fade from the clearing, her shimmering cadence a mere echo among the desolate lands.

Drifting towards the light, Strive's tiny hands clasped around the burning essence. Within his grasp, the star bristled to life and consumed his form in its white hot fires, coiling around his body as their feverish vitals shot through his veins, an unimaginable power erupting from his Faded core. He let out a ferocious cry when the star’s power fused with his centre, bringing the deathly gem back from the brink. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as he charged into the realm of the living, his valiant call breaking through the Void’s stifling command once and for all. 

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


Azure light poured from his lifeless vessel, its controls screaming in triumph while they raced across the entire hull, celebrating the return of its other half. Strive found himself hunched on the ground, his body having slumped into a breathless pile during his demise. A rush of adrenaline kicked him to his feet and coaxed him between the pillars. He breathed slowly, letting the cosmos wash over him, his body buzzing from the unbelievable power that coursed through his veins. His sensitive ears were at their peak, their feathered points raised high to the air, their delicate fur bristled with excitement

Strive opened his eyes—the fires of courage cauterized the invading dullness. In its place, a cosmic blaze consumed his gaze. It danced, swooned, and twisted around his iris, coiling around a fine point as they cradled precious starlight at its centre. The boy sneered at the sight before him, his starry eyes twinkling like mad while he laughed in the face of evil, taunting his enemy with his living, breathing form. 

“Not this time,” he warned. “You can’t take me down!” 

He set his fiery eyes on the barrier in front of him, calling forth the power of a blazing star. His vessel responded accordingly, letting out a caterwaul of shrieks and whines as it lit tremendous explosions in its engines, the dramatic aftershock managed to toss the surrounding Void ships like weightless vermin. With his path clear, he crashed into the green shield, cackling joyously when the screen began to crack beneath his power. 

Keeping his position, Strive opened communications with his allies, relief washing over his face once he beheld their emotional visages. They all called his name, their words drenched in a sentimental mixture of fondness, disbelief, and incredible happiness. The ones who could cry were practically blubbering at the boy’s revival—Phobos tried to wipe away his hidden tears, only to pause in confusion when he grazed his helmet. The rocketeer lowered his head sheepishly, hoping that no one noticed his momentary blunder. 

Havve eyed the boy with a scarlet adoration, his silent tongue reaching out to Strive and confessing his momentary fears. More than that, he shared his deep thankfulness for his return, his soundless voice watered over with a sappy potency. If the robot could cry, he must certainly would.

“There’s no time to waste," warned Strive. "We need to do it now! Follow my lead and don’t hold back. We’re winning this fight no matter what it takes!” He snarled at the beast before him, baring his teeth as he sent forth a catastrophic eruption from his engines, their dazzling lights acting like a beacon for all those in the cosmos. “Advance!”

The crew followed their leader’s orders, pushing their ships to their limits as they joined their young companion’s fight against the barrier. The impenetrable slate crackled when each member slammed into the shield, their combined strengths bending the immense structure. Sickening moans plagued the skies once the barrier began to give way, thousands of tiny shards breaking apart as a weakness developed in the shell. Strive eyed the bits with satisfaction, his blinding core pulsating with delight at the reassuring sight. 

Deaf to the furious growls for the Void, Strive hollered triumphantly when the barrier finally shattered. The Brigade raced through the jagged spikes, catapulting themselves towards the onyx beast with the same intensity as a group of renegade stars. With no time to stop their movements, they braced themselves for impact. Banishing his fears, he raced for the barren prism, his cosmic eyes locking with his reflection before being swallowed by the gluttonous beast, his entire world disappearing beyond the blank veil. 

Strive quickly surveyed his surroundings, shivering from the terrible chill that gripped his core. He looked down, exhaling with relief when his azure hues shined through the grey. However, his relief was short lived once he beheld the strange world before him. Tumultuous bolts rocked his vessel and travelled across the exterior, their electric fangs nipping at his tender wings. He scowled, twitching his arms in an effort to rid himself of the pesky currents. 

He grew uneasy when his teammates were shut out from all communications, each attempt failing to penetrate the murk of the Void’s innards. Strive growled in annoyance, knowing full well that their technology had been tampered with upon entering their enemy’s domain. The creature was doing everything in its power to keep him separated from his crew. Such a thought made him narrow his eyes in disgust. Then, they widened when a crooked voice seeped into his mind, its slithering tongue crawling underneath his skin with a venomous drawl. 

“Starling, Oh, little Starling,” it crooned. “You cannot defeat me. I will not allow it.”

Its low growl coiled around Strive's blazing core, digging its putrid fangs into his essence. “Give it up," Strive barked. "You’re done for. We’re here to put a stop to your tyranny!” 

The Void gave a deep, rumbly laugh. Its voice, sulfuric. Acidic poison. “ ‘We’ you say? And where are the others? Where are your companions, Starling?” Strive refused to answer the creature’s question. “Ah,” it breathed, a mere hiss among its tight words. “They are gone, child. They have disappeared within my grasp. You, the leader, have led them to their deaths.”

“You’re lying!" Strive snarled. “You’ll say anything if it means prolonging your pitiful life. I know how you function, demon. Your words and persuasion are useless against me.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” it purred. “You are among the few who have ever resisted my pull. Alas, all those who cross my path are destined to fall beneath my power. The stars were no match for me and neither are you, Starling. You embody a weak existence—both a star and a mortal being, trapped in that feeble little form of yours.” Strive felt a growl claw its way up his throat. The Void chuckled menacingly. “Mortal beings . . . such fragile things. What did you call that one? A mother?”

Strive froze in place. He felt his core seize at the mention of his mother. The Void bared its invisible fangs, sneering wickedly at the child's potent anguish. 

“Yes, that’s the word. Mother . . . _Avida_. She tried to match my strength once before. In light of her foolishness, I took her pitiful life. Torn apart by the ones she called companions. What a fitting demise for such a wretched creature. Her kind has been the bane of my existence for countless millennia. To rid the world of her presence; truly a breath of fresh air.”

“Enough! Shut the hell up!” Strive seethed in place, his body wracked with irate shivers as he listened to the Void drone on about its previous attacks. “You killed my mother. You cast my people into everlasting darkness. You took the stars from our lives! I’m taking it all back—I’m reclaiming what you’ve stolen for us, Void! I won’t listen to your deceptions any longer. It’s time for you to be silenced!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, little Starling. I do not lie. I only speak the truth.” The Void let out a hideous cackle and slowly wrapped its words around Strive’s core, poking and prodding at just the right points. It gave a dark smile, its shadowed form twisting around the vessel’s brilliance. While lacking a physical body, the beast managed to angle its chilling breath down Strive’s spine, tapping away at his nervous systems with dreadful precision. “I killed your mother—I gained unspeakable amounts of pleasure from the pain she endured. The ripping, the tearing, the cries of her companions when they were forced to do my bidding; spectacular chaos. 

“Her death shook the celestial world. It pleased me greatly, Starling. Their anguish fed me almost as much as their delectable starlight. Their raw despair—I wonder if I can replicate it once more? Perhaps I’ll start with you, little half-breed. Your death would surely spark another bout of irreversible agony.”

“Go ahead, just try it, you bastard!” Strive spat liquid hatred at the invisible voice. “Even if I fall, others will take my place. Your reign will never last. There will always be someone who will stand against you!”

“Others you say? Yes, I’ve given them some thought. Your companions, the Starlight Brigade?” The boy paled at the mention of his friends. “I wonder who you care for the most, hm? Is it that boastful beast with cur’s blood? Or perhaps it's the fallen hero, bound to a life of silent repentance.” The Void raised its voice in sickly delight as it chipped away at Strive's wavering core. “The mechanical creature, his past drenched in pools of blood, his artificial heart longing for a chance to redeem his forgotten sins. To see him perish would certainly break your spirits.”

“Shut up! Just stop it!” Strive’s voice broke as he begged the creature to end its verbal torment. 

“Then, there’s the last one," the Void continued. “The mournful immortal. The lonely scientist. After millennia of darkness, he finally believes there’s a chance for him to live his life with purpose. Oh, how he wants to live, little Starling. Even after taking away his beloved companion, he still fights in her name. Commendable, if not utterly foolish on his part.”

“You know nothing! I won’t listen to you any longer!” Strive howled. He grit his teeth and forced his vessel to advance through the overwhelming darkness, the Void’s nasty voice refusing to leave him for even a moment. 

“If you pass through the veil, you’ll be met with the consequences of your courage. Their blood will be on your hands.”

“There will be no blood but your own, Void. Your threats don’t scare me—you’re powerless to stop us!” A brilliant light crackled from Strive's chest, illuminating his steadfast features. Beneath the valiant glow, he felt renewed assurance as he sped through the charcoal clouds. “You can’t hide from me. Your fear, I feel it. You know there’s no hope!”

The Void staggered at the boy’s keen observations. “I house no fear! You sense the terror of your companions. You are the cause of such an emotion!”

“You’re right, I have caused fear. _Your fear_.” Strive guffawed loudly when he felt the burning resolve of his obscured companions. Although hidden, he could feel their presence guide him forwards, encouraging him to break past the shadows of the Void. In turn, Strive led the way, keeping their spirits ignited with the same intensity of the entire cosmos. He grasped the energy, keeping it close to his core as his gaze mimicked the power of a supernova. “Doubting us was your first mistake, demon. We’re prepared to lay our lives on the line in order to see you fall. Death doesn’t scare us—your words mean nothing! Strike us down, end our lives—it doesn’t matter! No matter the odds, we’ll find a way to banish you to the Wastelands. I’ll see to it even at the cost of my final breath!”

“You tempt me,” growled the beast. “Wretched creature! Foolish child! You cannot get rid of me so easily! I will creep through the farthest part of the galaxy, waiting for a chance to strike again! You cannot defeat me. I am the shadows, the abyss, the nothingness—I am the Void! I will live on forever!”

“Then we’ll be ready,” said Strive. He grinned, scoffing at the Void’s crumpling composure. “No matter what you claim to be, we’ll be there to stop you. In the darkest corners of the cosmos to the barren Wastelands of exiled worlds; we’ll be there.” He bubbled over with laughter when the Void’s tendrils loosened their grip on his core. His lifeforce shrouded the area in a blazing light, pushing back the desolate waves with a gallant luminosity. “After all—we are the great Starlight Brigade!”

The Void went silent. A terrible hush lingered in its centre when the boy rushed through the chaotic landscape, his courageous spirit refusing to falter for even a moment. As it watched him pierce through its essence, a primal rage loomed from the pits of its existence. The beast let its words crawl through its core, its words drenched with bitter loathing. Then, its haunting purr curled upwards in a disgusting smile, its raspy snarl salivating in a most egregious way. 

"Oh, little Starling . . . most foolish indeed. All things must come with a price. Face the consequence of your inane valor, little one." Drenched in sulfuric cackles, the beast gurgled its crooked words into the nothingness "Oh, how you will _suffer."_

With a final burst of energy, Strive tore through the darkness with a jubilant howl. Unseen winds coiled around his form, lifting his cloudy locks into a ferocious storm. His cape billowed behind him while he shot through the abyss, his speeds comparable to that of a shooting star. He braced for impact when he neared the end of the Void’s prison, doused in a subdued grey that begged to be freed. Happy to oblige, he crashed through the glassy barrier, his body shivering from the satisfactory thrill of the broken shards.

Breathless, Strive looked to his sides and let out a tremendous cry, the familiar forms of his companions matching pace beside him. Overwhelmed by joy, he gladly watched the Void fold in on itself, its jagged body stuttering wretchedly beneath its furious screech, a mixture of venomous howls and anguished screams rattling the boy’s sensitive hearing. As twisted as it sounds, he actually enjoyed the wails of their enemy as it succumbed to its fatal wounds. 

With one last howl, the Void collapsed, its centre imploding and sending viridian aftershocks crashing into the remaining scavengers. 

Starlight flowed from the chartreuse explosions, their luminous forms racing across the skies in celebration of their long awaited freedom. They rejoiced with velvety laughter and painted the blank skies with their essence, splattering the abyss with rich violet wonders, deep navy scrawls, and regal emerald splashes. Strive felt tears prick his eyes when he watched the skies come to life, their mesmerizing charm luring him into their ethereal waltz.

Unable to contain himself, he soared through the coils of starlight, his vessel shivering with delight whenever stardust shimmered across its exterior. He sent his ship into a passionate spiral, directing its organic form to weave through the cosmic waves. He skimmed the precious essence with his wings, splashing as if he were playing in a starry pond. Brilliant laughter shimmered from his chest when the starlight washed over him—they had done it. 

The Void. . . . It was gone.

Strive grinned like a fool when he heard the familiar chime of his companion's ship across their communications. He checked his screen, his core rolling in a joyful somersault when he opened the line to Sung’s vessel. Overtaken by speedy chatter, he immediately drabbled before the man had a chance to speak. “Stars alive! We did it, Sung! We actually did it! I-it’s incredible!” he stuttered, failing to keep his voice steady. His bubbling relief caught in his throat and threatened to let loose a flurry of comical tears. He sniffed once, quickly regaining his composure as he watched the stars through his viewing window. “Are you seeing this, Sung? It’s so beautiful—”

“I see it, Strive . . .” Upon hearing his companion’s muffled voice, Strive’s core seized at the terrible wheeze on the other end of the line. He looked up with wide eyes, the man’s image refusing to materialize on the screen.

“Sung? What’s wrong?” Banishing his carefree attitude, Strive hastily scanned the colourful skies for his companion’s ship. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of a golden trail, its engines sputtering at an alarming inconsistency. Upon closer inspection, he could see thousands of the Void’s shards piercing the yellow vessel, digging into the flesh of the carrier. Strive gasped at the sight. “Your ship’s been damaged! Stars, we need to get you back to Headquarters!”

The doctor seemed oblivious to the boy’s orders. “Strive, I’m so sorry.” Sung's voice sounded eerily calm, his words laced with a terrifying chill. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Again and again, he called those same words, echoing them as if he were reciting a dreadful mantra. The man made no efforts to reveal his image across the monitor—this disturbed Strive greatly.

“Sung, what are you—”

“I’m glad I got the chance to see the stars one last time.”

Strive's vitals froze at these ominous words. An anxious tightness claimed his throat. “W-what are you talking about? This isn’t the last time, Sung. You can see them whenever you want. Come on, we need to get you to Headquarters right away! Phobos will fix your ship and—”

“Don’t waste your breath, Starlight. I’m already running out of my own.” Horror gripped Strive’s chest when he listened to his leader’s sickening cough, the air sounding as if it were fighting to break through a layer of liquid. Viscous and metallic. 

Suddenly, the Void's parting words tore through his mind, ripping and tearing at his soul with its frightening drawl:

_All things must come with a price._

“No . . . you can’t.” 

His leader’s ship slowly faltered, its engines coming to a stop once it lost its will to advance. With a strangled cry, Strive raced forwards and nearly fainted at the horrifying state of the vessel. The window was shattered in numerous places, its precious oxygen quickly escaping into the vacuum of space. A guttural scream tore through the boy's chest when he beheld the ship, the man inside facing certain death if something wasn't done right away. 

Numb to the world around, Strive’s hands moved on their own and called forth the tendrils of the Bridge. He wailed a desperate cry and dived for the broken vessel, pushing it into the prismatic tunnel and hurling the two of them into the gateway. At the sudden jump, Strive’s remaining teammates instantly bombarded him with a slew of confused shouts as they watched him take their companion towards an unknown destination. Tortured by his raw emotions, the boy threw his Lexicomm to the ground and surrendered to his hysterics. 

“Bring us there!” he cried to his star. “He can't die! He just can't!

_“Please, take us back home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving, I want to extended my warmest regards during the holiday! Hoping everyone is having a safe time with your friends and family, be it in person or through digital means. For those who cannot spend it with loved ones, I hope you find joy in the little things. Although I am spending the holidays alone this year, I can't forget to be thankful for the important things such as my family's good health. That's always something to be happy about! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Cheers, dearies! :^)


	26. Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In one's final moments, a persistent call can be heard. Life is often fleeting, more so than one cares to admit. 
> 
> Existence—what does it mean? 
> 
> And why does it hurt?

In the blink of an eye, a brand new world materialized in front of Strive. And yet, it was all too familiar

With no time to react, he braced for impact and crashed his vessel into the famished earth. His ship scrapped across the ground, culling a hideous gash into the grey terrain. Within a few moments, their rocky descent came to a stop when his vessel skimmed into a nearby pond, their crystalline waves washing over the exhausted creature. Still in a state of shock, Strive heaved numerous gasps in an attempt to regain a sense of control.

Without warning, the weight of a secondary impact sent tremors across the land. Strive’s ears twitched at the noise, his core nearly Fading on the spot. Eyes wide with panic, he wasted no time jumping through his vessel’s shell. He tore through the white blooms, hastily sliding down the curvature of his wing. He crashed into the pond, paying no heed to the uncomfortable chill that plagued his bones. He trudged through the clear waters, calling his ship back into his fluttering centre. Once retrieved, he pushed through the frigid basin; remnants of stardust clung to his damp attire, though he couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. 

Sloshing towards shore, he stifled a gasp at the sickening sight in the distance. He threw himself from the pond, running towards the demolished ship with a trembling speed. His chest seized painfully when he neared the wreckage, his voice high with fright as he called out for his companion.

“Sung!” he shrieked. An unbearable tightness gripped his throat when he stopped in front of the crash site. A terrible chill carved its way down his spine, the sour smell of charred metals increasing his adverse reaction. The damages were worse than he thought.

The golden ship was littered with thousands of black daggers. Sung’s engines were severed from the source, their broken lights having faded long before they tumbled through the Bridge. Strive’s gaze traced the edge the shattered window, multiple pieces of glass having splintered and cracked across the surface. Refusing to wait any longer, he kicked up a cloud of dirt and charged for the lifeless vessel. He grit his teeth, his aching muscles howling in protest as he willed himself to climb directly into the wreckage. He dug his hands into the sleek material, using the numerous dents and gashes as suitable footing for his ascent.

Panting heavily, Strive managed to lift himself to the broken window. His wide gaze peered into the darkened carrier, his frantic light managing to illuminate the innards of the dead vessel. He felt his core skip a beat—Sung’s chair was empty.

Strive dragged his eyes over the rest of the hull, his entire body freezing at the sight of fresh scarlet blotches. Panic-stricken, he let an anxious cry ripple through his chest, desperately calling out for his missing leader.

"Sung! It’s Strive! Where are you?!” His voice hitched with an anguished strain. Near hysterics, he blinked furiously and willed himself to stay composed. The seconds were ticking away, each passing moment potentially spelling a grim fate for the injured pilot.

The boy quickly moved his eyes off the crimson mess, his weary gaze tracing a glistening path near the edge of the ship’s window. Strive jumped across the front of the ship, digging his hands into the glass as he held onto the side. The shards dug into his palm with a wicked edge, but he couldn't care less; his vessel would surely heal him. Numb to his own pain, he dragged his bloodied palm down the side of the carrier and slid off the exterior, his vitals thundering through his ears as he followed the trickling trail. 

Strive’s light pushed through the familiar darkness, its radiance seeming at home on this recognizable terrain. Although this planet should fill his core with delight, it instantly became tainted when foreign blood seeped into its ground. Keeping his stride steady, he pushed himself across the gravely environment and traversed the rocks with practiced precision; his footsteps were careful, yet careless all the same. He grimaced when he was forced down the rocky bluff, only to fall down the incline when all of his strength disappeared. It was at this point that he discovered it: 

Lying motionless in the pit was his fallen leader. 

Picking himself up from the ground, Strive sprinted towards the slumped figure. Breathing heavily, he stumbled towards the man, his core howling with a devastated glow. He could hardly stand to look at the sight before him. Riddled with numerous gashes, Sung sat himself against a rock, each thin breath sending the man into a grievous shudder. He seemed pale, his face contorted into a tortured expression as he kept his hands firmly pressed against his centre. Strive could see the ruby waters that seeped through his fingertips, its viscous texture beginning to stain everything it touched. Things became much worse when he noticed one crucial detail to the injury: 

Protruding through his leader’s bloodied grasp was a piece of the master Void’s shell, its despicable remains piercing the man’s chest; a final parting gift. The shard glistened beneath the renewed glow of the planet’s stratosphere, and yet it still managed to swallow every ounce of light it touched.

“No . . .” whimpered Strive. He kneeled beside his leader and beheld the man's disastrous state. He raised a trembling hand towards the doctor, his mind wiped clean as he gave into shock’s numbing embrace. He let his dull eyes travel over Sung’s broken form, his core beginning to muddle itself with ashen grief. 

Strive pulled his hand back. He looked away, his vision clouding from the warmth of his oncoming tears. His shoulders shook from the sorrows that wracked his body, each intake of air sounding quick and damp while he wept. Quivering breaths claimed his lungs with a relentless force, his anguish coming out in uneven gasps. He wanted to howl; to scream, to claw, to rip his throat to irreversible rawness. Biting back the urge to collapse, he forced himself to stand face-to-face with the egregious sight.

In one swift movement, Strive reached into his boots and pulled out his photon dagger, snapping the turquoise blade into existence. The weapon felt uncomfortable in his grasp, but it would do for the time being. Without hesitation, he positioned the blade near his leader’s neck, slicing the thin knife into the man’s red scarf—he hastily pulled the fabric away from his shoulders, pushing his leader’s hands to the side and pressing the cloth into the dripping gash.

Fighting back his rising hysterics, Strive tried his best to focus all his attention on stopping the bleeding. He pushed the scarf into Sung's chest, keeping his hands firm despite the persistent shake of his grip. As the moments dragged on, he felt the sickly heat of the man’s vitals seep through the fabric—it wasn’t slowing down. It wouldn’t stop. The blood; it drained onto the dusty grounds, assaulting the air with its nauseating tang. 

Tears rolled down Strive’s cheeks when his leader made an attempt to speak, only to watch him sputter as a gurgled cough tore through his chest. Sung begged for precious air to fill his damaged lungs, his request met with the delicate dribble of blood from the side of his mouth. Strive whimpered pitifully, fated to watch his leader suffer. 

The boy stiffened when he felt the man shift beneath his care. He shook his head frantically, pleading for his leader to remain still. “You can’t. You need to save your strength.” Strive flipped the scarf in his grasp, folding the heavy material to a new side in a feeble attempt to sop up more blood. He gulped, his hands becoming drenched in a thick, ruby wash. “Stars, I-I can’t stop it! I don’t know what to do, Sung! Why won’t it stop?! It has to stop! Otherwise you’ll. . . .” He couldn’t bear to finish his sentence.

Upon hearing Strive’s anxious voice, Sung slowly raised his hands to the meet with the boy’s, wrapping his weakened grasp around Strive’s palms with a shake of his head. He said something in a low tone, his quivering words foreign to the Moebian’s ears.

“I don’t—” Strive reached for his Lexicomm, only for his blood to run cold when he remembered his careless fit from before. Swamped with the confusing prattle of his teammates, he had thrown his communicator to the side in order to regain his focus. He hissed at his foolishness, loathing his emotional stupidity. “Stars, I can’t understand you! I wasn't thinking straight when you . . . I-I saw your ship and heard your voice and I just . . .” A furious edge rose to his voice. “This is all my fault! It shouldn’t be you, it _can’t_ be you! Why? Why couldn’t it be me?!”

Strive’s tortured howls filled the grey clearing, his chilling wails propelled by his core’s mournful glow. He turned his head towards the skies as a beastly cry crawled its way out of his chest, their sorrowed talons sending him into a frenzied sob. He wept while he carried out his useless actions, each passing second adding more weight to the increasingly soiled cloth. The boy could hear his leader’s shuddering breaths as he tried to speak again.

“Don’t—” begged Strive.

His leader managed a wobbly grin. He ignored his companion's demands, turning his head so he could look directly at him. “It’s alright, Strive. You don’t have to keep trying. . . .”

Strive nearly stumbled back in surprise. He could understand Sung’s words, his voice somehow emulating his own native tongue. Out of habit, he reached for his Lexicomm, freezing in place when he remembered that he lacked the vital device. With wide eyes, he listened to his leader’s soft, wispy tones; he marvelled at the curious accent that laced the doctor’s words. 

“It’s fine,” he whispered. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t something that we can fix . . . it can’t be helped, Strive. I . . . I can’t continue for much longer.”

“You can’t say that! It’s not true!” Strive glared at the man, his starry eyes ablaze with a potent despair. He grit his teeth as the infuriating rush of tears curled down his face. “We’ve won! Don’t you understand? The stars have been freed. The Void won’t plague the cosmos anymore—you’ve fulfilled my mother’s final wish. You can’t give up now! You’ve fought so hard for this. I won’t let you die, Sung. Not when your life is just beginning!”

The doctor let out a bubbly chuckle, his scarlet laughter dribbling to the surface. “My life has been endless, Strive. For countless millennia, I’ve been walking in a haze, simply trudging through the timeless fields of immortality. I’ve long since forgotten my beginning . . .” A thin wheeze interrupted him. “I’ve had my time in this existence. Maybe it’s best if I finally give in.”

“No! Don’t even say things like that!” Strive shrieked incredulously. “You can’t just die, not when you’ve promised yourself a second chance. How can you let your new life slip between your fingertips? My mother gave you a reason to live. Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten about her sacrifice!”

“Of course not. I would never forget Avida’s gift.” The doctor’s voice held onto its tight restraints. “She believed in us and saw our potential for greatness. Even in death, she still guides us forwards. I promised to fulfil her final vows. Now that our mission is complete, I have nothing else to offer.” His words were cut off by a sudden, scarlet sputter. 

“That’s not true! You can still live—you must! This isn’t the end by any means. There are still so many things you deserve to experience. So many promises that you’ve yet to fulfill.” Strive looked towards the skies, his eyesight recovered once he blinked back his tears. “You promised me a chance to gaze at the stars. Not by myself, but as a team. All of us, together beneath my planet’s atmosphere. I’ve repaid my part of the bargain, now it's your turn to follow through!”

The doctor tilted his head upwards, the action proving much too exhausting for him to attempt. Nevertheless, he eventually managed to turn his attention towards the skies, a mesmerized hush falling before the man as he marvelled at the scene above. The doctor inhaled sharply, his mouth agape while he traced his gaze among the shimmering stars. “Is this . . . ?”

Strive nodded, urging the man to keep on fighting. “Yes. It’s Moebius; my home. You’re here. You’ve finally made it here, just like my mother wanted.” He brought his eyes down, a fresh batch of liquid muddling his vision. “You promised to live on once the battle was over. So why? Why aren’t you fighting anymore?!”

“Strive, i-it can’t be helped. I’m not—”

“Stop! This isn’t right. None of this is!” Strive’s sobs began to increase in volume. “You have to live. You can’t die here, not like this. After everything we’ve been through, I refuse to believe that you're willing to let it all slip away. I’ve seen the way you light up at the thought of the future; I’ve felt it, too! You want to live, Sung. I know you do!”

“I—” Sung kept his fading gaze trained to the cosmos. He remained silent, his strangled breaths rocking his body into a painful submission. Then, he let his own tears cascade down his pale face. “Of course I want to live. I don’t . . . I don’t want to die, Strive.” Sung heaved a shuddering sob. “Stars, I-I want to live! I don’t want to die like this . . . I want to keep living. I want to see the cosmos with a new perspective, to experience their joys and wonders for myself—no, with my family. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Please, not again. . . .”

At these heart wrenching words, Strive broke down into a pitiful mound. “Then why are you giving up?! There has to be a way to keep you alive!”

“But there isn’t!” Sung barked. He gave into his mournful sobs as a terrible shiver claimed him. “Not this time, Starlight. The damage has been done. I've already got one foot in the grave; I can't escape it. My luck . . . has just run out.

“All my life, I’ve been living a pointless existence. Everything I did was fueled by an empty, drifting desire. When Avida gave me a second chance, I was thrilled. For the first time in my life, I felt hope. I wanted what she had—her joy, her love, the comfort of companionship; I wanted it all for myself. Eventually, I found it. Stars, how it made me happy. For a while, I felt like I didn’t deserve any of it. But Avida assured me that it was rightfully mine. She led the way towards my salvation, even going so far as to give up her life in order to keep me going. Her gifts were beautiful, but unbefitting for a tainted being like myself.

“I knew it was too good to be true. Why should a wretched creature be given another chance? To be led on like this is unbelievably cruel. The cosmos laughs at my misfortunes, just as it always has. Their first joke was giving me Avida, only to take her away from my grasp. Then, just when I think there’s hope for me to live on, it strikes me back down.” The doctor gave a low, crooked chuckle. “Face it, Strive. You should just give up on me. It was never meant to be.”

“I don’t care. I’m not letting you go!” Strive worked through his whimpers and tried to stop the endless rush of blood. “When the crew gets here, we’ll find a way to save you! They can use your medical supplies to treat these wounds, or find a way to stop the bleeding. With their help, I can keep you alive!"

Sung shook his head slowly. He slumped against the rock as exhaustion weighed him down. The scent of death lingered in the air. “They won’t get here in time. It’s n-not possible,” he drawled, his voice barely lifting to a whisper.

“Stop saying that. Please, I can’t . . .” Strive dragged his eyes over Sung’s cold form, watching his chest rise and fall at a dreadfully slow pace. Unable to control his strength, he felt Sung's scarf slide from his grasp, falling to the ground with its bloody weight. A high pitched wail sounded from his throat, his feathered ears angled towards the ground with a grievous tremble. Strive’s shoulders shook between each of his lament sobs. “Why did it have to be like this? I never wanted this. If I hadn’t been so stupid I could have—”

Sung quickly interrupted. “You know, you sound an awful lot like myself.” Despite his pains, the man managed a genuine laugh. “For years, I blamed myself for Avida’s death. Now that I’m in her position, I finally understand why she was willing to sacrifice herself. She was willing to die for the ones she cared about—without a doubt, I'm prepared to do the same.”

“But it shouldn’t be this way," Strive hissed. "I don’t want you to die for me. I want you to live! You even said so yourself—you want to keep living, and I’ve done nothing but take that chance away. How can you even bear to look at me? I’ve . . . killed you. Stars, I’m the reason you’re dying!”

“You can’t think that way, kid. I made the choice to follow you into battle. None of this is your fault. There was always going to be some risk, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sung inhaled sharply, his words laced with an airy shudder. “What kind of life would there be if we let the Void maintain its reign? No matter what, I couldn't stand by and watch that happen. Even though I can’t continue past this moment, I’ll always be thankful that I got to see this new world f-for myself. It's no longer dark, Strive. I-It's so bright—it's so beautiful.”

Strive watched helplessly as his leader’s form began to relax. He leapt forwards, taking the man's weakened grip in his hands. “No, no . . . please. You can’t go, Sung. Just hold out a little longer. The Brigade’s on their way. We can fix this.”

“It’s too late, Starlight. I’ve already accepted my fate.” Tied to his existence by shallow breaths, the doctor looked to the skies one last time. “Tell me about the stars, Strive . . . I-I want to hear your stories, the ones Avida shared with you . . .”

Strive tightened his grip around Sung’s chilled hands. He continued to shed his tears while he complied with the man’s dying request. Looking to the shimmering skies, Strive felt his mouth move in time with his past, reciting each soft tone his mother had whispered through the night. He traced his hands towards the stratosphere, slowly dragging his fingers across the faint paths of his childhood.

“Those two stars . . . they’re the best of friends. Whenever it gets cold, they sit closer together, their shimmering laughter bringing warmth to the skies. They share a connection; an unbreakable bond. By themselves, they’re nothing. Together, they shine brightest.” Strive felt Sung’s hands twitch. 

“That star,” he continued, “often dances alone. I used to worry about it, but my mother assured me that it wasn’t lonely—if you look closely, you can see it calling for its friends, encouraging them to join its silent waltz. It’s a quiet creature, but the stars don’t care. They welcome it with open arms.” If he didn’t know any better, it sounded like Sung gave a weak scoff.

A steady stream of tears rolled down the boy’s cheeks, his words struggling to break through the pain in his voice. “Just beside that group is a star with a mighty temper. Its form growls and rumbles, bristles and spikes whenever its friends ignore its abrasive calls. My mother always cautioned me about that one, saying that no one would be its friend with an attitude like that. But I don’t think the other stars dislike it. I think they care deeply for him.” Sung whispered something to himself, his words dribbling into an unheard obscurity. 

Strive traced his hand over the celestial masterpiece, only to pause when his noticed the empty gash in the sky. Biting back his sobs, he slowly brought his hand over his mournful core, its azure light flickering in a silent torture. “This star . . . is mine. My mother always said the other stars loved it; I think they still do. She told me to look for this star in times of trouble, and urged me to take it for myself and let it become my courage. When faced with despair, she told me to seek it out—my guiding light. The one who brings hope to the cosmos.”

His core fluttered weakly, its vibrant flames nearly extinguished by the weight of the battle’s aftermath. All he could do was watch his companion’s life gradually meet its end. Strive looked away, refusing to let his leader see his anguished face. He had nothing to offer but the stories of his past. How pathetic.

Suddenly, he felt Sung’s hands tighten. He listened to his leader’s wispy tones, the man's voice holding the warmth of incredible fondness. “You’ve certainly lived up to the tale, Strive. The Brigade wouldn’t have succeeded without your charge . . ." Sung wheezed, his entire body seizing in anguish. "Starlight . . . the name suits y-you well. Our brilliant star—the Brigade’s fearless leader. Knowing that you’ll live on brings me great joy. . . .”

“Sung—”

“Don’t cry, Strive. There’s no point anymore. I want you to continue living. To go beyond your wildest dreams. To see the cosmos for all its glory! Can you do that for me?” The boy nodded, snivelling before the man’s dying form. Sung smiled weakly. “The Brigade will t-take care of you. You still have them. Don’t let my death take that away f-from you . . .” 

The doctor's hands began to relax as the last of his strength ebbed into the clearing. Strive held on, his desperation worsening when he felt his arms drop. “Stay a little longer, please . . . it can’t be this cruel . . .”

Sung smiled softly. His head slowly lulled to the side. His shoulders slumped into the rock once he bid farewell to his vitality. Heaving a painless sigh, his final words hissed through the deathly clearing. “I’m s-so sorry . . . Strive . . .” In one fell swoop, the man’s life came to its tragic close, the winds of Moebius carrying his soul past the point of no return.

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  


Strive refused to let go. He sat by his leader’s body for what felt like hours, his terrible cries rippling through the lifeless clearing. He cursed everything he could think of—the Void, their mission, the fragility of life; himself. Wrought with unspeakable grief, all he could do was howl towards the skies, wishing that someone would hear his forlorn song.

Unfair. It was all unfair.

“Why?” he droned on, caring not who heard his pitiful calls. “Why did it have to be this way? We fought so hard to bring you back and this is how you repay our sacrifice? By taking him away?!” Bitter resentment rose to his core, their vicious flames rolling their way across the grey pit. They lashed out, responding to his inconsolable state. “Bring him back, damn it! You can’t take him like this! He deserves so much more!”

Jumping to his feet, Strive cast his furious gaze towards the stars. He watched them shimmer in silence, their brilliant forms wavering in time with his irate cries. “When my life was gone, you brought me back for a second chance. I was gone, and yet you refused to let me Fade! You knew my life was just beginning, so why did Sung have to die? Can’t you see that his life was just starting? How could you give him hope for the future, only to take it all back?! Answer me!”

Silence lingered in the skies, the stars choosing to remain silent against Strive's vehement shrieks. Their forms glimmered sadly, a woeful chill dousing the starlit clearing. Disgusted by their voiceless moans, Strive looked away. He balled his hands into tight fists, falling to the ground and slamming them into the rocky terrain. Again and again, he crushed them into the gravel, each new impact sending uncomfortable jolts up his arms. He didn’t care—the pain rippled through his body, a constant reminder that he was confined to this miserable plane of existence. 

Snivelling, bloody, and wracked with tremors, he fell prey to the weight of his grief. He couldn’t think, nor could he function with any sort of clarity. He felt broken, a part of his core ripped away with a sickening animosity. Within his mind, the Void’s dying call rang through his thoughts, taunting him from beyond the grave. Strive wept into the ashen terrain, his tears spilling across his blood-stained hands without end. He traced his vision across his sky-blue skin, watching as it became muddled with a vermillion shine.

_Their blood will be on your hands . . ._

“I did this . . . it’s all my fault. You’d still be here if—” Strive choked on his words when his eyes lined up with his leader’s cold corpse. “I’m sorry, Sung. I’ve failed you. I don’t deserve to be the cause of your sacrifice. If I hadn’t dragged you along, you’d still be here! Stars, I’m such a fool!”

The stars shimmered restlessly, their crackling forms responding to the boy’s heartbreaking woes. Their vibrant bodies called out to the cosmos, cursing its foul reign. Although Strive couldn’t hear their voices, he certainly felt their despair. They howled most wretchedly in response to their Starling’s torment. 

Sorrow's marauder went to work, swiftly robbing the cosmos of its vitality. Strive looked up and gasp as the stars submerged themselves in their torrential despair. Their beautiful palettes faded from their domain, taking all of their colours into the realm of suffocating shadows. Finding their voice, they joined Strive in his wallowing cries; they took their starlight, holding it close while they wept into the shimmering blanket. The skies ebbed with a staggering grief, the force nearly knocking Strive into the ground. Their combined power was breathtaking, though incredibly awful to endure. Catastrophic emotions plunged for the lands below, wrapping Strive in their terrible embrace.

“There has to be a way,” he called into the darkness. “We can’t let him go. Please, bring him back. It has to be possible. You’ve done it before!” 

Expecting silence, Strive was shocked to hear a wispy response coil through his mind. It lacked the abrasiveness of the Void’s influence, infiltrating his thoughts with the delicacy of a quivering feather. 

_Oh, little Starling. You’ve freed us, banished the darkness for our beings. And yet, you suffer. We mourn for your loss. Your pain, it strikes us so._

Strive's core flickered with fevered impatience. “Then help me! Lend me your strength—he doesn’t have to be lost!”

_Alas, little Starling, we cannot fulfill your wishes. The Void has weakened us. During our imprisonment, our strength filtered from our grasps. We require time—this being has none to spare._

A slew of curses flew from the boy’s tongue. He looked towards Sung’s body, then to the dim creatures above. “So you’re telling me that there’s no hope? You’re saying that I should cast him aside? Deny him of a better existence?” Strive growled furiously, spitting with a venomous defiance. “I won’t accept it!”

 _But you must,_ called the stars. _We cannot do anything, little Starling. Your friend is doomed—we house the same sorrows in the face of his demise. Had we the strength, he would still be with us._

Strive heard enough. Tearing his eyes from the glowing creatures, he crawled towards his leader's body. He crouched by his form, his throat tightening with dread when he beheld the horrific sight. Sung’s blood had long since stopped, his vital essence beginning to crust around the devastating wound in his chest. Hanging limply by his waist was his red scarf, a steady drip gradually escaping the damp fabric. It dribbled onto the rocky terrain, staining the lands with the stench of death. Strive locked eyes with his leader’s visor, the reflective shield just as lifeless as the man wearing it.

Raising a shivering hand, Strive gently touched the Void’s grotesque shard. The frigid material sent chills down his spine, a wave of nausea coursing through his twisted stomach. The spike nestled its way deep into his chest, its ebony shine soiled by leftover smudges. Upon closer inspection, Strive could see that they were fingerprints; his own, blood-soaked marks. He whimpered quietly, feeling utterly alone beneath the murmuring sky.

“I can’t do anything for you. I broke my promise . . . to you, my mother, to everyone I swore to protect. I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry, Sung!” He placed his hand onto the man’s frozen centre, calling softly; a desperate whisper among the chaos. Everything felt so cold. 

When Strive fell into a hush, so did the stars. However, their silence was short lived when a sudden, excited buzz galvanized through the stratosphere. They murmured to themselves, chattering quickly with a frenzied drama. Weighted by his sorrows, Strive paid no attention to their delighted chants, not until he was given a reason to look up for himself

Warmth spread across his hand. A tender glow cradled his weary soul. Taken aback, Strive followed the source of the warmth, his eyes softening once he recognized her shimmering form. “Mama . . .”

The woman squeezed her son’s hand, sending her calming radiance through the boy’s core. Her entire body glimmered with a veil of stardust, her features bright with an ethereal glow. She smiled kindly, her starry eyes housing endless affections for her child. “It’s nice to see you again, my little Starlight.”

“I-I’m sorry, mama. I couldn’t keep him safe. It’s my fault that he’s . . .” he snivelled pitifully. “The stars, they can’t bring him back. They told me they’re too weak. We don’t have time to save him! He’s gone and it’s all my fault!”

“Strive, you cannot blame yourself for this. You did what you had to do in order to destroy the Void.” She cast her glimmering eyes towards her past companion. They held the hot rush of starlight. “My dear friend . . . I wish we were reunited under different circumstances. You fought well—your courageous battle, I watched it all unfold.” She moved her hand from his chest, gently grazing the side of his ghostly features. “True to your words, you fought until your dying breath. After all these years, you’ve finally fulfilled your promise to this silly, doting mother. Beloved Doctor Sung, I can’t thank you enough.

“Here you lay with your past and future, deaf to our presence as death claims your soul. Even in my absence, I’ve watched your existence flourish. You’ve made friends, finding joy and laughter along the way. Despite all the hardships, you’ve carried on. The hope I gave you—it’s beautiful, isn’t it? No more darkness, no more nightmares . . . you finally learned how to live. To see you like this pains me deeply.

"Do you remember our travels together? Stars alive, the days were never dull when I was with you. At times, you could be such a nuisance; hot-headed, brash, full of yourself—it was frustrating at first. The amount of times Havve and I had to drag you out of trouble was truly mind boggling. It was like you craved the thrill of disaster." Avida clicked her tongue. Then, she stifled a twinkling laugh. "After a while, I grew used to your budding personality; I much preferred your new attitude compared to when we first met. No longer the selfish immortal, your world suddenly blossomed before you, encouraging you to step beyond your narrow view of the galaxy. To watch it all unfold was breathtaking. I'm thankful to have been there to see it.

"Admittedly, there were moments where we butt-heads. Stupid arguments, the wrong choice of words, clashing morals . . . and yet we learned more about ourselves that way. Our friendship didn't happen over night—it took us quite a while before we really became a team. In time, we placed our trust in each other, promising to have each other's backs no matter what hardships we faced. We soon became friends. After a while, we were the _best_ of friends." A woeful pause radiated from the spectral being. "To build up that trust, only to have it ripped from your grasp, was devastating for you. Oh, wounded doctor, all this time I've felt that pain. That trust you held so dear . . . seeing you find it again eased my departed worries. 

“Your friends; I’ve been watching them closely. They care for you, just as I did during our adventures. I’ve seen the way you smile, the way you pester and prod at their patience like it’s some kind of game, and the way your heart jumps in time with their calls. You’ve finally found your place among the cosmos. You've found your home, Sung. To leave them now would be a terrible fate, one I simply can’t bear to watch.”

Avida moved her hands back to his lifeless centre, gently placing her palm onto the dismal shard. Strive watched with unblinking eyes, his core flickering in a frenzied shock. “What are you doing?” he asked shakily. 

“What the stars cannot do themselves.” 

Strive’s eyes widened. His chest doused the clearing in a tremendous light. “You mean—”

“Starlight, this will be the last time you and I will meet like this.” Avida’s words waved her son’s light. The woman sighed sadly, her starry eyes glistening with melancholic showers. “My life was ripped from me by my cherished companions. Even in their possessed states, they still called out to me, mourning my death with their overwhelming regret. As compensation, they tried to bring me among their ranks, but the Void prevented this. While my body may be gone, my spirit remains intact. For three years, I’ve been watching in silence, forced to exist as a useless bystander. I couldn’t lift a finger for the Brigade. Now, I can finally do my part.” 

Her voice rose once urgency took hold. “I’m going to save him, Strive. His time isn’t done.”

The woman’s ethereal spirit gained a new vibrancy, the brilliant light crashing across the clearing. Avida’s form crackled, threatening to break apart. At such a daring display, the stars cried out in despair and begged for her to stop, lest she risk disappearing forever. 

“Are they telling the truth?" Strive whispered. "If you bring him back you’ll . . .” He glared at the commotion above him, his core tightening when he heard their pleas.

“Fade from this existence? Yes, it’s true.” Her voice hummed with an eerie song, its haunting tone low and chilling. “If I give him my remaining life source, my existence will most likely cease. I’m not like the stars, Strive. I can’t lend my strength and continue this form. It’s just not possible. Although the stars see me as their equal, I’m only a mortal being. There are limits to what I can do.” 

“Mama, you can’t! There has to be another way!” Reluctantly, Strive marvelled at the warmth his mother’s spirit produced. Its intensity grew, and yet her form wavered.

“There isn’t. You want him to come back, don’t you?”

Swallowing his despair, Strive managed a feeble nod. 

“Then let me do this. Please, Strive. For the both of us.” Avida shimmered fretfully. “No matter what we faced, I promised to take care of him. To look out for him in times of trouble. I held this true to my core’s final flash of light.” She turned to her son, her starry eyes developing a misty sheen. “And for you, my little Starlight, I promised to always keep you safe. To bring you happiness, to bring you joy, to focus on your wellbeing—I can no longer do these things myself. But Sung can. His life is more important than mine. If I let him die, I’d be failing both of you.”

The light’s intensity peaked to incredible heights, rivaling that of the stars above. Strive could only watch, his acceptance coming in the form of his lingering tears. “I’ll always look to the stars, mama, just like you told me to. I’ll bring everyone here beneath the sky. We’ll watch them together. I’ll tell them your stories, every single one. They’ll come to love the stars just as you and I did.” 

“That sounds lovely, Strive. I know they’ll enjoy it.”

“Yes, t-they will! I—” Strive turned to his mother, wrapping his arms around her unstable form. A pleasant calm coursed through his being, banishing the pains of his anguished body. “I’ll try my best, mama. Stars alive, I’m going to miss you!” He held his mother tightly and buried his face into her shoulders, sobbing as waves of emotions crushed into his exhausted core. He felt indescribable love, yet terrible dread at the thought of letting her disappear. 

Avida’s composure crumpled when she gave in to her son’s embrace, hugging his trembling form with a mother’s sentiment. Having been separated for over a decade, their parting vows were incredibly bittersweet. “I know you will, Starlight. Please, stay strong for me. Keep moving forwards. Your future—everyone’s futures—are so bright, a path lit by the stars themselves. Make the most of it.” She gave him a final squeeze, her brilliant laughter bubbling to the surface. “Oh, my little Strive. How I treasure you.”

She loosened her hold on her son, casting one last glance to the side. Then, she placed her vibrant palm back onto Sung’s damaged centre, hissing out a long gust of wind. She breathed deeply, letting the delicate glow of stardust coil around her form. Her figure wavered as she slowly accepted herself into the blinding light. Avida closed her eyes, appearing as if she were overtaken by bliss. A quiet hush filled the clearing. Even the stars remained silent.

“Goodbye for now, my companions,” she hummed to the skies. The stars shimmered sadly, grieving her gradually fading presence. “Sung, I hope you find your happiness. At this time, it’s hard to say when we’ll meet again. But don’t lose hope; I’ll always be by your sides.” Avida let out a small chuckle. “Goodbye, my dear friend. Until our next encounter.” 

Wrapped in starlight ribbons, Avida gave her last sigh, letting her radiance wash over her lifeless friend. Her figure crackled, dissolving into a striking ball of light. The organic form shimmered with a pleasant aura, coiling its caring essence around the man’s onyx centre. Avida’s light charged for the shard, racing through each of the cracks and tears of his body with a mending spirit. The whips slithered around the shard, engulfing the dismal gem in a blanket of stardust. 

Suddenly, a tremendous flash exploded in the clearing, momentarily blinding Strive’s vision. Through the veil, he could hear the lingered delight of his mother’s laughter. It flew through the winds on gentle, feathered wings, soaring through the souls of those who heard her trills. Then, she was gone, her spirit retreating to a realm beyond their own. Strive gave a shaky sigh, his hand moving over his thundering core. Had she done it?

Blinking rapidly, he dared to look at his companion. With his breath bated, he waited for the man to stir. Strive's entire body rocked in time with his tumultuous vitals, his ears failing to pick up any sounds besides his coursing bloodstream. Scoffing nervously, he moved closer to his friend, kneeling beside him as he dragged his eyes over his immobile form. 

“Sung?” he began softly.

In his peripherals, a foreign shine caught his attention, prompting the boy to look down at the man’s chest. He gasped in surprise at the bizarre sight before him. Nestled at his centre was a curious gem, its position mirroring the exact place the shard had pierced his chest. No longer a sickly onyx, this new shard was stark white, its faint glow illuminating the man’s stirring form. Strive jumped back, his entire body locked in stasis as he watched the unthinkable unfold.

Sung slowly raised his head, seeming trapped in a dull daze. He shifted into an upwards position, his hands hovering over his chest with a noticeable shake. Caught in a dream, the doctor turned his gaze towards Strive, his new centre flashing in response. “I . . .”

A triumphant cry soared through the air as Strive threw himself towards his companion. He gave a joyous shout, enveloping the doctor in a relieved hug. “Stars, she did it! I can’t believe it—you’re back! Sung, you’re okay!” Strive’s core flared to life, dousing the entire clearing in its azure excitement. His light raced across the lands, banishing the surrounding darkness with ease. Overhead, the stars rejoiced as well, their colourful display firing through the skies like a cosmic explosion. 

Sung sat dumbfounded in his spot, his muddled mind trying to decipher his current position. “I was . . . gone? No. I should be dead. This—” he gasped suddenly, gently pushing the boy away from his chest so he could run his fingers over his centre, his palms frantically searching for the devastating wound. He found nothing, only the smooth exterior of his curious light. “Stars alive, what the hell happened?”

Through his overjoyed tears, Strive explained everything. He told Sung about his demise, and how the stars mourned his passing. He confessed his conversations with the mysterious creatures and his bitter fight to reclaim the doctor’s life. Then, he told him about his mother and how she sacrificed herself to bring him back. All throughout the difficult story, Strive's core pulsed with a mournful glow; surprisingly, Sung’s core did the same. 

“And this?” the doctor asked, looking down at his chest. “What did she do? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t know. She must have done something to the Void’s shard. Maybe the damages were too severe for her to mend without its presence. It’s hard to explain, but I think she somehow fused it with you. Her starlight and the Void’s shard—she synthesized both of them into your chest. She created a stable life source for you.” 

“This light, it’s strikingly similar to your core. The way it shines, it’s almost . . . prismatic.” The doctor cradled his life source, letting out an awestruck sigh. “A prismatic core. Kinda has a nice ring to it, eh? I think I'll use that for now on.” In light of his excitement, the man’s lustrous core shimmered in amusement. Without warning, the doctor threw his head back as a mighty guffaw took hold. He grinned wildly, his laughter echoing through the clearing on celebratory wings. He swiftly jumped to his feet, wrapping his lively arms around his young companion. He spun the two of them around, bouts of pure elation cackling to the surface. 

Strive gave in to the joy, a series of high-pitched squeals flowing from his burdenless chest. Beneath the starry skies, the two beings laughed. They laughed, they cried, they thanked the stars for bringing the Brigade together in the first place. Their spins grew increasingly chaotic once a disorienting dizziness threatened to send them to the ground. Sung quickly placed a tottering Strive onto the gravel, only to fall backwards when his balance failed him.The boy watched the doctor fall twice, his doubled vision serving as the ultimate form of entertainment. 

Despite his best efforts, Strive eventually gave in to his swirling environment, crashing to the ground with an audible thud. Unable to stand for themselves, Sung’s voice rose above the confusion to see if he was okay. 

Truthfully, Strive had never been better.

The two beings splayed their bodies beneath the mesmerizing blanket of the cosmos, patiently waiting for their teetering vision to come to a halt. Now that they could actually focus, the stars opened their world up to them. Decadent rose blushed with delight, its subtle hue gently melting into the surrounding indigo swirls. Not only blues, but deep violets as well. Their colours chattered, gossiped, and sang while they tumbled through their familiar home, feeling at peace within their celestial domain. 

Strive sighed, their starlight filling his core to the brim. He revelled in the way their stardust tickled his skin, their dusty showers a luxury he had missed dearly. Feeling lost in a dreamy haze, he raised his hand towards the sky, tracing his outstretched palm over each of their forms. They moved in time with his commands, each one shimmering gleefully whenever their little Starling gazed upon their forms. He could hear their excitement, their chattering bodies shivering with every sway of his palm. 

“I never realised how beautiful they were,” breathed Sung. 

“Mmh, they’re incredible. Every last one.” Strive followed their ethereal waltz, only to pause at the curious sight above. His core’s light quickened.

Sung noticed the change right away. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s . . . my star?” Strive felt for his lively gem, his fingertips buzzing with energy when his other half playfully nipped at his skin. It couldn’t be there, not when it rested within his core. “Look, up there. Do you see that? I don’t know that star. It’s not one of the one’s my mother traced for me. It’s new.”

“Have you tried talking to it? Surely the others would know who it is.” 

Strive tried, and yet his question was met with a light, tittering laugher. The noise held so much care, so much adoration for the beings on the ground. Strive couldn’t contain his smile. “Our guiding star . . . she’s there, Sung. She's found a way into the cosmos! We don't have to worry anymore. The stars are keeping her safe.”

Sung’s core gleamed fiercely. Doused in a pearly radiance, the man looked towards the star, mimicking Strive’s outstretched palm as he reached for the gentle dot in the sky. The two companions sat in an emotional quiet, neither daring to break through their thoughtful contemplations. With open palms, they reached for the starry skies. Their cores fell silent—a long awaited peace calmed their souls. 

After a while, it was Sung who decided to end their reflective pause. “Can you tell me more of your mother’s stories? I want to hear all of them. It feels wrong to look at the stars without knowing their history. I want to learn all their tales by heart—er, I guess by core.” The doctor guffawed joyously, his life source glowing in time with his renewed sense of self. “I want to know what you see in those glittering dots. I’ve got all the time in the world.” A cheerful grin rose to the surface. “What better way to start my life than to learn by your side? Lay it on me, Starlight. I’m all ears.”

Strive looked to his leader, nearly brought to tears by the sight before him. No longer a prisoner of his past, Sung was free to live as he pleased. His future was unknown, but it held undeniable promise. He held so much excitement in his soul; it bubbled from his prismatic core, tickling their craggy retreat with a velvety softness. Much like the Void, Sung’s darkness had finally been banished. Their battle was met with the sweetness of a long awaited victory. 

“Where to begin . . . ?” Strive brought his hand towards the blithesome skies, preparing to unleash a flurry of rich facts from his past. Before he had a chance to begin, a bellowing call rang across the clearing, the shivering air making way for three familiar vessels. Overhead, the stars cheered the names of their saviours. Twitching his ears towards the sound, Strive smirked as the ships closed in on their position. “Hold that thought. I’ll wait until they’ve found us. It wouldn't be fair to keep them out of the loop, now would it?”

Sung smirked at his words. “Even after all that build up? C’mon, Strive, the anticipation is killing me!”

“Trust me Sung, they can’t afford to miss out on this one. Stories like these are meant to be experienced underneath the stars. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part to go! Wow, what lengthy a ride it's been! Stay tuned— there's more to come in the epilogue, folks! Our tale isn't quite finished yet :^)
> 
> In light of the upcoming conclusion, I will be giving my formal, parting speech after the final chapter.
> 
> In the meantime . . . I'm wondering if anyone has any questions regarding this story? Either for me as the author (hullo there!), for certain aspects of the story, or just questions about my process and choice of direction. It could be anything! I've already received a few questions here and there and will include them at the end of the epilogue as a sort of Q&A. Feel free to shoot a question in the comment section, or if you'd like to remain anonymous, ask it as a sneaky 'lil guest. Perhaps I'll even include a list of all the songs I referenced in the text, hehe. 
> 
> Lovely readers, thank you so _so_ much for joining me on this incredible journey! See you all soon! :^)


	27. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **See the end of the Epilogue for my final words, acknowledgments, and some Q &A content.**  
> Feel free to leave some parting words if you'd like. Be it praise or constructive criticism, or perhaps some thoughts on the story, I'd love to here it all! Don't be shy—I encourage your honest thoughts! Leave a message either in the comments or on these social platforms:
> 
> [ ►Tumblr ](https://grace--bee.tumblr.com/)  
> [ ►Twitter](https://twitter.com/GracieBeee) ****
> 
> If you liked the story and want to share it with friends, go for it! Be it TWRP fans or folks who enjoy this type of tale, I encourage the spread of literature, whether it be fan works or published works. Who knows? Maybe they'll like it as a stand alone story, or perhaps they'll get into the fandom—you never know!  
>  **  
>  **Thanks for joining me on this crazy adventure! Cheers, everyone! :^)**  
> **

Strive inhaled the chill of his planet, savouring the crisp pleasures that swept through his lungs. Alone on the roof, the boy cast his eyes to the skies and enjoyed the familiar winds of Moebius. With great care, he traced each of their glimmering forms, a dreamy smile breaking to the surface when he listened to their soft melodies, each one different and beautifully unique. They would mingle about the cosmos, a joyous lift cradling their songs whenever he beheld their forms. Silent laughter filled the air, a treasure meant only for their little Starling below.

Their delicate whispers cradled his chest, rocking his core into blissful submission. They shimmered above the sleepy village, basking the land in their vital starlight. Across the village, new found life prattled beneath their watch, filling the streets with the welcomed bustle of his people. Strive looked beyond his little rooftop, following the busy crowds as they took to the streets in excitement. More than a month had passed since the Brigade brought back their precious stars—the village wasn’t going to stop their celebration anytime soon.

Chuckling to himself, Strive bid farewell to his cosmic confidants. With a practiced precision, he skimmed the side of his roof, remaining mindful of all the tricky slopes of his past. He slid through his window with ease, his senses instantly met with a pleasant aroma upon entry. Following the mouth-watering scent, he charged down the stairs, his smile broadening when he heard the hearty guffaw of his grandfather. 

He walked into the steamy kitchen, jumping back with a laugh when a certain robot nearly toppled into him. “Whoa! Careful there, Havve. Wouldn’t want to spill any of that.”

Havve swiftly turned his head around, holding his plates high in the air as he made way for his young companion. Strive ducked between each of his arms, but not before a rogue grasper fanned through his hair, ruffling his cotton locked with a quick bout of fondness. Then, the robot was off again, his focus trained on the numerous pots that had begun to bubble over. A series of anxious clicks filled the room, each of their silent utterances fussing over important tasks.

Shaking his head in amusement, Strive walked over to the table that his grandfather was preparing—in his hand, six separate plates were placed with great care. The elder looked up, his eyes coming to life once he beheld his grandson. “Ah, there you are. You’re just the young man I wanted to see.” His grandfather finished setting the plates and began to organize the cutlery, only to pause when he placed a steady hand on his grandson’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. “How are the stars tonight?”

“Breathtaking,” replied Strive. He sighed softly, his hand twitching out of habit. “Nothing short of spectacular.”

Alcadous grinned, his withered features coming to life beneath his core’s brilliance—his eyes held the sparks of his youth. “To see our guiding light once more . . . it fills my core with great joy. To see her again is . . .” The elder lost himself for a moment. “Dear me, look at me prattle on. I’m afraid these old thoughts can get the better of me sometimes. Leave it to Havve to keep me in check.”

At the mention of his name, Havve tilted his head towards the two Moebians, his two remaining graspers tasked with stirring their dinner. With how the contents bubbled and lapped at the air, it was safe to assume that it was almost done. 

“These past few weeks have been lovely with him around. Such an eager being, he is. Always willing to help me with any task. I do hope I haven’t annoyed you with my chatter, Havve. I’ve come to realise that I’ve done all of the talking!”

Strive stifled a laugh when Havve’s voice fluttered through their connection, his circuits chattering in amusement. “He doesn’t mind, grandfather. He actually likes hearing you talk. He says it’s a nice chance of pace.” Strive could sense another emotion beneath the surface, one of gentle warmth. The robot quite enjoyed the elder’s rambles, especially when he talked about his daughter. To hear about her lively past was a gift he treasured dearly. 

Alcadous glanced at the robot, his whiskered features rising in time with his smirk. “Well, I’m glad he enjoys them. I’ll make sure to send you off with my best tales tonight. Now then,” The elder began shifting restlessly as their dining hour grew near. “Would you be so kind as to fetch the other boys? Havve and I will get everything ready by the time you all show up.”

Nodding, Strive gave a quick farewell and sped through the door. A lively bounce found its way to his steps as he ran for the vibrant village, his brilliant core carrying him towards his destination. He passed a few of his people, their eyes lighting up at the sight of his azure core. They all waved, grinning from ear to ear as they watched him bound through the luminescent crowds. Strive’s cloak flowed behind him, a burst of residual stardust flicking into the air. Villagers laughed at the sight, the younger ones frantically pulling their parents towards the joyous explosion. The children giggled, marvelling at the shimmering layers that clung to their own snowy wisps. Having been without starlight their whole lives, the children would do anything to be near it at all times. 

No longer hostile and bitter, the villagers welcomed Strive with open arms, calling his name without any sort of malice. Their previous whispered transformed into a boisterous chatter, the centre of their town lit with the lights of their glowing cores. Sneers turned into smiles; crying soon became laughter; despair disappeared beneath the reawakened cosmos. Moebius was once on its way to extinction, Now, they were driven by hopes for the future. 

As he ran through the merry village, a sudden bout of high-pitched shrieking caught his attention. Strive's ears twitched upwards in surprise. He wandered over to the commotion, a playful flame dancing through his eyes once he recognized his roaring companion. “Meouch!”

A rumbling purr rolled through the feline’s chest as he was forced to the ground by numerous children. Meouch’s deep laughter rattled through the town, causing all the youngsters to giggle at the strange noise. They clambered up arms and hung off the sides, swinging on the cat like he was some sort of play structure. For the children who weren’t tall enough to reach, the beastie kept them busy with a flick of his tail, leading them through an elaborate chase on the ground. Near the beastie’s side, it looked like a smaller child was on the verge of tears, her tiny stature much too weak to play for very long. Meouch gave a few soothing purrs, calming the child by placing her on his broad shoulders. She snivelled once, then let out a quiet giggle, babbling something about the fuzzy mane beneath her fingertips. 

Meouch’s eyes twinkled with delight when he noticed his young companion. “Takin’ a stroll around town, are ya?”

“Something like that. I’ve come to round up the rest of the team. Dinner’s almost ready.”

The feline dragged his tongue across his fangs in anticipation; he looked about ready to salivate. “Alright, I’ll be right over. Just lemme finish up over here.” Upon hearing the dreadful news, the children gave a unified whine. Meouch let out a boisterous chuckle. “Sorry, kiddos. This ‘ol cat has to catch his supper.” Again, the children wailed in protest. The beastie’s eyes softened before the disappointed crowd. “We’ll play again tomorrow, okay?” The children nodded their heads eagerly, completely oblivious to the tremble in his whiskers. They ran back to their parents, each of them chattering excitedly about their strange, fuzzy friend. 

Meouch let out a long huff of air, gently lifting the little girl away from his shoulders. He smiled sweetly, carefully placing her back on the ground so she could run back to her brother. Before she ran off, she offered a soggy hug to the beastie’s leg. She snivelled once, wiping away her dewy vision before she reunited with her older sibling, her timid voice retelling the softness of the feline’s fluffy locks. Her brother stifled a laugh, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame and taking her by the hand, leading her back to their home.

Seeing this, Strive’s core flickered fondly—everyone had redeeming qualities, even jerks like Aster.

“Need any help roundin’ up the others?” asked Meouch, smoothing down his ruffled attire.

“Don’t worry about it. You head on over. I’ll be back with them soon.”

With that out of the way, the two companions parted for their separate destinations. Strive followed the cobblestone path without any trouble, the familiar abode quickly coming into view as he sped towards the house. He approached the patchy door, rolling his eyes when another set of damages riddled the entrance. Seeing no need to knock, he opened the door with the same authority as its eccentric owner. 

Immediately, the sharp scent of a burning smog assaulted his senses. Strive coughed, waving his hand through the air in effort to rid himself of the noxious smoke. “Is everything alright in here?”

A nervous voice rose above the smoke, the creaking of multiple open windows pushing through the disastrous haze. “Oh! Is that you, Strive? Yes, yes, everything is fine! Phobos and I just had a little mishap with one of our candles . . .”

No sooner had it made an appearance did the smog begin to clear, the cluttered living room gradually coming into view once the clouds had settled. Strive blinked furiously, his eyes just barely catching a glimpse of Etolous by his blueprints, the old engineer seeming unfazed by the state of his home. He leaned over his notes, paying no heed to the frantic rocketeer beside him as he worked to clear the smoke—in his gloves he held one melted candle, the hot wax dripping down his suit and coating the charred prints in his other hand. 

“Are you good, Phobos?” Strive asked, biting back a flurry of giggles.

The rocketeer stopped in place, his deadpan expression more than enough to convey his emotions—Strive got the message and helped him clean up the unfortunate mess, sharing a few laughs along the way.

When everything was done, Strive took this chance to remind the rocketeer of their upcoming event. Phobos jumped in place, checking the time on his soligram with a silent gasp. He hadn’t been keeping track of the time, his work with Etolous proving to be the most fun he had in years. Unfortunately, it was finally time for them to end their studies together.

“Dinner already, eh?” Etolous heaved a sigh, his calloused fingers stroking his beard in a gloomy fashion. “Well, I suppose I should thank you for all the nights you’ve helped me with my experiments. These blueprints are our ticket to a better life, one full of endless possibilities and new discoveries!” 

The rocketeer said nothing, though his body language was visibly weighed down by melancholic chains. He slumped his shoulders, his hands brought together in a sad fidget. 

“What’s with that glum display, eh? There’s no need to be so sad, my friend. We can always meet up again in the future.” Etolous rolled up the blueprint he was looking at, playfully swatting it behind the rocketeer’s head. “Don’t keep Alcadous waiting! He’s been working on this dinner for a while now. Don’t go spoiling everyone’s moods with that sullen attitude, you understand?”

Phobos nodded his head, his posture much more upright after the engineer’s abrasive—yet deceptively fond—words. The rocketeer made his way for the door, casting his visored gaze towards his young companion. Strive waved him off, promising to meet up soon. Phobos bowed his head, sending one last goodbye to the elderly gentleman before he exited the house, his russet coloured suit stained with the lingering scent of smoke. 

“I’m going to miss that odd lad,” hummed Etolous. “Such a brilliant mind. He gave me the solutions to decades of problems in just a week’s time! With his knowledge, I can finally push my work beyond paper; it’s astonishing!” 

Strive smiled, his light coiling with the man’s own turquoise glow. “I’m happy for you, Etolous. You’ll bring great things to this village, I just know it.”

“Mmh, within due time, Strive. I’m sad that you won’t be able to witness our progress. It’s nearing your time, isn’t it?”

Strive nodded sadly.

“Ah, then who am I to hold you back any longer? I have a feeling that you’re still looking for one more, am I right?” The man let out a hearty bout of laughter, offering the boy an encouraging pat on the back. He led him to the door, winking mischievously. “Get going, kid. I’ve kept you long enough. No need to stay; we’ll always be here, even when you’re gone.”

Strive exchanged a few more words with the engineer before bidding him a fond farewell, his core's light shrouding them both in a bittersweet aura. Once he left the house, he dashed for the fields beyond their village. Tracing the footsteps of his past, he jumped through the foliage with a spring to his step, his glimmering core serving as a guide through the peaceful undergrowth. Within moments, the forest hush parted, revealing the serene clearing that Strive held so dear. 

He slowed his pace, carefully weaving through the budding pentawrens. Mindful of where he stepped, he traced his eyes over their beautiful forms, a layer of stardust hugging the delicate folds. While not in full bloom, their reserved exteriors were still a sight to behold. The turquoise petals shivered when he passed, swishing quietly across his boots. Within a few days they would surely unfurl, collecting bulbs of moondew for the planet to savour. After being gone for over a decade, the flowers proved to be quite resilient against its adversaries. Much like his village, life was beginning to return. Hope had finally blossomed.

Turning his attention away from the pentawrens, a pleasant warmth filled his core when he managed to locate his final companion. He shuffled through the flowers, his movements soft and cautious as he approached the man on the ground, his visored gaze reflecting the stars above. Sprawled across the silent clearing, Sung basked in the starlight, sighing in time with the celestial beings. He inhaled deeply, his prismatic core glimmering with content. Seeing him so relaxed, Strive felt bad for intruding on his tranquil escape. 

His hesitance made no difference—it would seem that Sung already knew of his arrival. “Damn, is it time already?”

Strive snickered at the casual tone, sitting himself beside his leader. He brought his eyes to the skies, drinking in their starry essence. “Yeah. Everything’s ready for us. I’ve already told Meouch and Phobos to head back to the house. I’ve come to bring you back with me.”

“Hmm, alright.” The doctor’s voice was low, his words slurred in a trance-like state. “I’m going to miss this place. Being on your home world is . . . well, I’ve never been happier. After all those years of promising to bring us here, we’ve finally made it. I wonder if Avida knows how much this means to me.”

Strive traced his eyes to their guiding star, watching her shimmer in silence. He couldn't hear her voice, but he could still hear her sonorous laughter; it sent brilliant showers through his core. “I think she knows. She seems so happy for you.”

Sung hummed thoughtfully, locating the same speck in the sky. He grinned, his feature illuminated beneath a white glare. “Strive, are you sure you want to leave Moebius? You fought so hard to bring their starlight back. To be back home with your people, your grandfather, your stars—isn’t that what you always wanted?”

Strive brought his knees to his chest, casting his gaze to the vastness overhead. “It is. To be back home brings me so much joy. Seeing everyone overcome the darkness is something I’ve dreamed of seeing. All those years of sorrow—it's gone, just like that. The weight in my core has finally lifted. I should be happy here, I know that. But I just . . . I can’t stay. Not after everything I’ve seen beyond this world.

“My dream was to touch the stars, to soar through their stardust fields and claim them as my own. After spending my life stranded on the ground, I finally gained my wings and found my place in the cosmos. I’m no longer bound to this planet, Sung. I can exist outside this realm—I can forge my own path. My journey doesn’t end here; there’s still so much more for me to do. I just know it. Being a part of the Brigade, it’s . . .” Strive looked to his leader, a wobbling grin rising to the surface. “Well, I think I can safely say that my heart’s true calling was never betrayed. I belong to the cosmos, Sung. I belong with the Brigade. I wouldn’t dream of leaving my family behind.”

Prismatic light washed through the clearing when Sung heard these words, his core skipping a beat between each fond flutter. He tried to speak, only to falter beneath sentimental waves. The doctor thought about his life and the hardships he had gone through; he thought back to all the promises he had made, every last one of them fulfilled by the end of their quest. To be here at this very moment would have been an impossible thought for his past self to imagine. And yet here he was— _alive_. Living a life he wished to continue.

“The Brigade wouldn’t be the same without you around. We’ve all grown pretty fond of you, kid. I think I speak for everyone when I say we owe our success to you. Really, this wouldn’t have been possible without you here.”

Strive mumbled something to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. You’re all spectacular! I just had a few lucky breaks here and there."

“Please, don’t sell yourself short, kid. Or should I say _leader_?” Sung chuckled when Strive’s rosy blush turned scarlet. “Seriously, I couldn’t think of anyone better to lead us to victory. You were amazing, Strive. Avida would be so proud.” 

“Do you think so?”

“I know so.” Sung let out a long sigh, trailing his vision over one specific star; it glimmered in time with the doctor’s words. “So, tomorrow's the day, huh? Of course, we’ll come back to visit once and awhile, but it’ll definitely be a long time before then. What about your grandfather? Won’t he be sad to see you go?”

“Grandfather always knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep me here. Ever since I was young, I think he's known where my true destiny lies.” Strive stood up, standing before the man on the ground. “He knows my dreams lie elsewhere, maybe even beyond the stars themselves. I’ll have no way of knowing if I stay here. My future is unknown . . . but it’ll always be bright by your sides.” He offered his hand to the doctor, outstretching his sky-blue palm. His smile called forth a wave of cordial starlight, his core highlighting all of his gallant features.

Worn from the glories of battle, Strive's appearance held onto a new strength. No longer was he the naïve dreamer—he was a fighter. An acolyte of justice. Confidence surged through his soul, lighting the fires of his ethereal gaze. Below his cosmic eyes, a white scar cut across his cheek, mimicking the trail of a renegade star. When he held his hand out to Sung, it didn't shake, nor did it hold an ounce of uncertainty. The was no room for doubt in his brave new world.

“Come on, Sung. Let’s get going. The Brigade's waiting for us.”

Sung cast his gaze to the abyss one last time; they glimmered joyously beneath his misty sight. Their brilliance was alluring, a treasure he had never cherished until now. Yet nothing could compare to the valiance of his young companion, his eyes holding the vivacity of the stars themselves. He looked at the boy’s open palm, bending to his invitation as he took his hand in his grasp.

In times of trouble, in times of despair, the stars would always be there to light their paths. In the wake of uncertainty, Sung was reminded to seek out a guiding star, one that would banish the darkness and make way for the warmth of hope. Whether they be in the sky or right by his side, he knew where to look. He let out a boisterous laugh, his guiding star joining in with his own, brilliant laughter. 

Strive called out. Sung gladly answered. 

“Lead to way, Starlight."

**— — — — — END — — — — —**

  
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Phew! With that, I bring this story to a close. Wow, what a ride it's been! I'm incredibly thankful to have had the chance to share this little story with all of you. I say little . . . but really, this is novel length. I've never had the guts to finish any of my pieces—be it fanfiction or personal projects—and now I have the pleasure of signing off a completed work; unbelievable! This was such a fun story to write. Delving into characters, lore, hidden details and compelling story arcs was some of the most fun I've had in a while. All those late nights and the loud clacking of my keyboard have finally produced a finished product. I'm at a loss for words, really. From the bottom of my heart, thank you! :^)

  
**ACKNOWLEDMENTS**  


Firstly, I'd like to thank the **[ Knights of the Light Table (KotLT) ](https://twitter.com/KotLT_Animation) **for creating the original music video! Their work is absolutely stunning—truly a gifted bunch of artists! Their ability to capture the whimsical wonders of an intergalactic tale is honestly so amazing. The animation, the research and planning that went into its creation, their ingenious interpretations of each member . . . just _wow_. You can really see the love they poured into their project; all their hard work deserves so much appreciation! Not only do I thank the KotLT team, but **[ TWRP](https://twitter.com/TWRPband)** and **[ Dan Avidan ](https://twitter.com/ninjasexparty)(NSP—Brian Wecht included)** as well. So much musical talent wrapped up into one perfect product. Don't forget to give all these wonderful folks the praise they deserve! 

I want to give a huge thanks to all you wonderful readers as well! Seeing your excitement and hearing your support for this little tale has seriously made the writing process so much fun. I loved reading your comments and responding to all your thoughts. Whether it be your written tears (so sorry about that!) or your genuine happiness, I was always delighted to read your feedback. Once again, I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this lengthy adventure—you’re all wonderful!

To the lovely ** Nexeliam**—a tremendous thank you to you! When I first read your comment about wanting to translate this story, my heart absolutely soared! You’ve been so kind to take this story and open it up to those in the French community. Whenever I read your work, I can really feel the love and care you put into it. Your dedication never ceases to amaze me! Not only that, but your illustrations are spectacular! They’re all so beautiful—your ability to capture the essence of each chapter is insane! To have you working by my side has been an absolute treat. Thank you, my friend, for all the hard work you’ve put into this project. I appreciate you so _so_ much! 

Thank you to **LunaMiko** for starting the Russian translation! To have the TWRP fandom spread to different languages is honestly incredible. Getting people excited and involved in this fandom is such a nice thing to see—the boys deserve so much love! Once again, thank you! 

Thank you **Leon** for always lifting my spirits. You’ve been so excited for every chapter I release and super sweet whenever we talk. You are such a bright presence, one I am happy to have gotten the chance to know! Between your amazing drawings and brilliant ideas, you've really brightened my days. Thank you for being you—stay rad, my friend!

  
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.  


**Q &A SECTION**

**Who am I?**  
I go by Bumblesaur on this site, but Grace works just as well. I've had an interest in writing stories ever since I was young, often writing little prompts with fantasy/sci-fi elements. While I'd like to think that my writing is refined, I've still got a _looong_ way to go before I ever publish an original work outside of sites like this—still learning the ropes! English and Creative Writing are my main studies at university, followed by studies in the Visual Arts department. Writing stories brings me great joy, especially when I get to share them with an audience. Other than that, there's not much else to share. Just a girl with some aspirations of her own :^)  


**Where did all the info on the characters come from?**  
Big question! Where do I begin? A lot of my information came from Doig and Swift’s (two of the creators behind the Starlight Brigade music video) **[ Patreon ](https://www.patreon.com/doigswift/posts?filters%5Btag%5D=Behind%20the%20Scenes) **page. On their site, they had information regarding the creation of the video, the setting, the tone, and the ways they responded to the lyrics of the song—things like character design and the inspiration behind them is also there. In their notes, a lot of their design choices were a nod to Miyazaki, retro anime, sci-fi, and the actual artist, Moebius, to whom Strive’s planet was named after behind the scenes. A lot of their visual inspiration came from his unique style, such as Sung’s attire being related to the inhabitants of his work.  


Getting back to the question—there was a lot of information I pulled from existing TWRP lore and what was implied via the music video. Things like Sung and Havve’s silent, immortal connection have been floating around in TWRP lore for a while. Meouch has a pirate past smuggling Funk through the galaxy, his rogue attire alluding to the fact in his character design sheet. As for Phobos . . . well, we don’t know much about him. He’s quite the mystery, really. We know he and Meouch had a scuffle on his home world, but not much else. Up until recently, he was completely silent. With his vow of silence being broken this year, this gave me some room to play around with the idea of him lacking a voice and making up for it in creative ways.  


In regards to Strive, his burning resolve and willingness to brave the unknown was kept very similar to what was already established. He’s youthful, hopeful, and full of pure ideals. As a character, he pushes through the impossible and pursues his goals no matter what he’s up against—this rings true for TWRP’s journey through the industry and for Dan Avidan, the musician Strive was based off of. This was explained in greater detail by the creators.  


Little things like a Moebian’s diet, their sensitive hearing, their reliance on the stars and how their dim cores affect them, additional creatures and environment names, etc . . . was me stretching my writing muscles. I figured if I wanted to create a longer story that some of these things should be explored. There was only so much I could interpret from the music video and the Patreon notes before I got too rigid in writing. In order to expand the world further, I had to take some creative liberties. With Avida thrown in the mix, I twisted the lore to abide by my story. How Havve got the name 'Hogan', the reason Strive's vessel came down in the first place, his connection to the stars, why his core was the last one glowing, Sung and Havve's dodgy pasts—I added these elements to breathe life into an already vibrant world.  


In short: it’s a mix of existing references and things I’ve pulled from my thoughts.  


**Did I anticipate a story this long?**  
Kind of! I have a tendency to type very fast and include a lot of detail. This is a little bit of a double-edged sword since: 1) I risk missing some grammatical or spelling errors during revision, and 2) I tend to drabble on for longer than I need. I’m still learning the in’s and out’s of writing, but this experience has greatly helped! Judging by your positive feedback, I think it’s safe to assume that I didn’t do half bad, haha.  


**Did I purposely include song references throughout this story?**  
Of course! A lot of the songs actually inspired some of my chapters. You can find a list of some hidden and not-so-hidden references at the end of this section. Granted, there's probably some I missed.

 **How long have I been working on this story?**  
I first started in March of 2020. Right when quarantine was hitting, I was just coming out of my university semester. Knowing that I’d be bored to my wits ends, I needed to find something to occupy my thoughts. Funny enough, I stumbled onto TWRP during a random search on my Spotify recommendations—my first real exposure to them was with their song _Pets_. Now, I say first real exposure because I had already seen the Starlight Brigade video when it first came out. Being a big fan of Dan’s, I was more focused on him than the other members at the time. Once I heard other songs by TWRP, I was hooked! I went down the wacky rabbit hole and caught a glimpse of their intriguing lore. Space Canadians from the future, eh? Sounds awesome! I connected the dots, traced my way back to the music video and. . . . Poof! I wanted there to be a story!

 **What’s the writing schedule like?**  
Ever since I started writing, I’ve tried to make my schedule pretty strict. Mondays to Thursdays would be focused on my studies with a few ideas here and there. Friday, I would draft my ideas and start with a few drabbles. Saturday I would spend the entire day writing, sometimes well into the night. Sunday would be revision day, hopefully publish day as well. This has been going on for quite a few months—I’ve no idea how I’m still typing, haha. Sometimes the schedule would go out of whack, either by my eager fingers or some slight delays from life.

 **Ninja Brian—where is he during all of this?**  
I anticipated this question well before I started writing. When I began drafting, I originally wanted Brian to be a regular part of the Brigade. Since he was in the music video, I felt a certain pressure to keep him near at all times. Then I was met with a few roadblocks, one being the fact that Brian doesn’t speak. Having already taken on the task of juggling two mute characters, adding a third would be quite difficult to manage. While Phobos had his Morse and Havve revealed his voice later one, I couldn’t find a shtick for Brian. With five characters under my belt, I made the decision to keep our sneaky ninja in the shadows in favour of a few nodding references. When it was time for the big battle, I had him work in the background as the leader of Headquarters’ attack fleet and doing what he does best—ruthlessly killing out of sight. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ninja Brian! I just couldn’t handle all that power on paper! 

**Avida’s character—what made me include her?**  
Funny story with this one; her role was upgraded through development. At first, I was going to use her as a scapegoat for the elder’s ‘this is what happens when you try to reach the stars’ warning. But then I thought that was too cruel. So I gave her a life beyond the stratosphere, one that would eventually lead everyone together through fate. She was the catalyst that started the Brigade, her intrusion a series of slim chances and events. I thought about mothers and their devotion to their children, how their love can reach no matter the distance. I also thought about how one person can change someone’s life forever, just as she did with Sung and Havve. They were beings without a purpose, so Avida gave them one. Even though she was separated from her son, she still had two more to take care of. Even a pair of immortals need a mother to look out for them.

 **The name ‘Avida’. Did you—?**  
Haha, yeah. It started as her draft name, but I ended up loving it enough to use through the entire story. Nothing spectacular here, folks. It’s literally just ‘Avidan’ without the ‘n’. However! It’s a bit of a happy coincidence since ‘avi’ can be related to birds; aviation, avian, etc.. which directly ties into Strive’s visual development from the bird known as a starling. Being a sucker for references, I made sure that the stars referred to Strive as a ‘Starling’, both a child of the stars and a bird of the skies. Some things just work out that way, don’t they?

 **Will I be writing any in-between stories?**  
I plan on it. There's a few interesting plot points that I'd like to dive into. They wouldn't be anywhere near this story's length. More like little snippets with the potential for a few parts. Nothing is set in stone as of yet. Until I start writing them, I won't know what the format is going to be. I'm thinking a series of times before, during, and after the Starlight Brigade. Perhaps I'll delve into different perspectives too.

 **Will there be a sequel to this story?**  
I’m betting on it. Granted, it’ll probably take me much longer to draft a coherent story this time around. Having gone off the music video for visual and story inspiration, it’ll take me a while to devise a solid plan of action. Do I have ideas? Oh yeah. Can you expect it anytime soon? Probably not. I’ll be taking a nice break away from the writing table; after writing non-stop for nearly a year, I certainly need to unwind! The Starlight Brigade will be back. Until then, you’ll just have to wait, haha.

  
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**SONG REFERENCES (All the ones I remember writing down)**

**Prologue:**  
“How can I _stand by while the world dies_?” (Starlight Brigade)  
“ _This is suicide! Did you hear what I said?_ ” (Starlight Brigade)  


**Chapter 3** :  
“ . . . we'll _navigate_ the _black seas_ until we find our stolen starlight!"” (Starlight Brigade)  


**Chapter 5:**  
Planet inspired by the cover of Ladyworld album  


**Chapter 6:**  
Titled: “Under the Sun” (Under the Sun)  


**Chapter 7:**  
“Why don’t I tell you about the time we got stuck in the _cosmic tides_? (Cosmic Tides)  


**Chapter 9:**  
The Screamadonnas—my twisted take on the women that inhabit Ladyworld. Hey . . . did I mention there were ladies? (Ladyworld) 

**Chapter 11:**  
“After all, _we are the great Starlight Brigade.”_ (Starlight Brigade)  


**Chapter 13:**  
Titled: “Hidden Potential” (Hidden Potential)  
“I’ll make sure to _unlock yer hidden potential_ . . . Ya’ve gotta learn how to _unlock it_ , kid. Then, we’ll figure out how to _unleash it!_ ”(Hidden Potential)  


**Chapter 14:**  
" . . . or the gaudy choice of the year: _Phantom Racer" _(Phantom Racer)  
“ _Have you ever thought of the sheer improbability that you were born? That I exist?_ ” (Life party)  
__

____

**Chapter 16:**  
"Wrapped in the embrace of this mismatched family, he desperately wished they could stay like this _all night—forever."_ (All Night Forever)  


____

**Chapter 17:**  
Titled: Typhoon Turnpike (Typhoon Turnpike)  
“ . . . they were actually high-speed _turnpikes_ , limitless roads that transported the pilot through the depths of time itself. Wielding the strength of an intergalactic _typhoon_ . . .” (Typhoon Turnpike)  


____

**Chapter 18:**  
Title (Zone to Nowhere) and planet inspired by the album cover for Guardians of the Zone  


____

**Chapter 21** :  
Chapter summary: _“Through thick and thin, through stormy weather—together they are stronger.”_ (Only the Best)  
Titled: Only the Best (Only the Best)  
“Repeat after me: _Food. For. Thought._ ” (Only the Best)  
_“Return to wherever, together through time_ . . . am I getting that right?” (Album names)  
“She stifled a giggle as she spoke their nonsensical purpose. “ _Ancient wisdom, arcane art, martial pro—wess . . . ?_ ” (Atomic Karate)  
“Avida wanted what was best for us. She wouldn’t settle for anything less . . . _only the best._ ” (Only the Best)  


____

**Chapter 23:**  
“Don’t be disheartened, Strive. _We’ve all made it this far, so don’t let go.”_ (Somewhere Out There)  
“It was time to _welcome_ their _new reality._ ” (On This Rock)  


____

**Chapter 24:**  
“He felt lost, stranded _between the black and grey_ . . . ” (Starlight Brigade)  
_“Locate the great Starlight Brigade.”_ (Starlight Brigade)  


**Chapter 25:**  
"Suddenly, all of his worries faded _into nothing with the rest of the light and sound_ . . ." (Starlight Brigade)

**Chapter 26:**  
"In time, we placed our trust in each other, promising to have each other's backs no matter what hardships we faced. We soon became friends. After a while, we were the best of friends." (Rock N Roll Best Friends)  
“At this time, _it’s hard to say when we’ll meet again_. But don’t lose hope; I’ll always be by your sides.” Avida let out a small chuckle. “ _Goodbye, my dear friend._ Until our next encounter.” (Pets) 

**Epilouge:**  
“Well, I think I _can safely say that my heart’s true calling was never betrayed . . ."_ (Starlight Brigade)  
"An acolyte of justice." (Starlight Brigade) 

********

********

**A mixture of direct quotes, alterations, and allusions towards specific songs. There's probably a lot more scattered throughout the story, some of which were unconscious additions! If you read a line that sparks a familiar chord, chances are it's a sneaky reference ;^)**


	28. EXTRA CHAPTERS | Starlight Brigade: Flowers of Yore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five mini-stories for you to enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! It's been a busy time for me, and unfortunately, it'll only get busier as the weeks progress. Projects, assignments, exhibitions, and jobs—you name it! It's all happening at once, making for one hectic life to navigate. Ahh, but that's not why I'm here! I've been working on a little side project during my free time, one I've alluded to in the past. Hopefully it'll be a nice little treat for you all.
> 
> As you can see by the title, it's called _Starlight Brigade: Flowers of Yore._ I've been working on a series of short stories for the members of the Brigade, all of which are concerned with their different pasts. I've taken a lot of creative liberties when crafting these stories, building them around my interpretation of the SLB universe. Everything happens for a reason, bringing unlikely forces together through impossible means.
> 
> There are five stories in total, all of which I've left a link for in order of appearance. You can use either the links I've provided, or search for the work itself.
> 
> With that, I leave you again! I've no idea when I'll be back, but I do hope it will happen sometime in the future. I still have some stories lingering in the back of my thoughts. See you later, lovely readers! :^)
> 
> (P.S: If you haven't already, I highly encourage you to check out Nexeliam's incredible artworks for my series, The Stars are in his Eyes. As of February 2021, they've illustrated—and translated—up to chapter 18. Each work is breathtaking! Please, give them your support!)
> 
> [Nexeliam's Tumblr](https://nexeliam.tumblr.com/) and [ Nexeliam's DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/nexeliam)  
> Follow the progress of the French translation here: **[Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux.]() **

Chapters in order of appearance:

**[Title Page Illustration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72847323) **

**[ Indigo Blight—Meouch ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72600495#workskin) **

**[ A Change of Tempo—Havve ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72602004#workskin) **

[ Our Undying Melody—Sung ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72605295#workskin)

**[ Chains of the Fallen—Phobos ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72606384#workskin) **

****[ Ode to the Future—Avida ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543523/chapters/72607173#workskin)  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Starlight Brigade – Les étoiles brillent dans ses yeux](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633897) by [Nexeliam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexeliam/pseuds/Nexeliam)




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